Stalemate in a Sandbox
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: Sara stuttered a bit, weighing the words in her mouth. "It's more than we'd expected, I need you to understand just how much more."
1. Stalemate in a Sandbox

Title: Stalemate in a Sandbox

Author: ScullyAsTrinity

Category: Romance/angstyness...or is it angstiness? Know what? Neither of them are real words.

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I own the park, I created it in my head.

Author's notes: This whole story is going out to Joan, who has been nothing short of spectacular helping with my fan ficcies. She's fantastic and amazing and I thank her. I also, shall continue to thank Lauren, who just... she's just fantastic as well.

ALSO!!!!: I didn't realize this until I was on page... 12 of this story and listening to the song at the time... that this song is perfect for the mood I was going for in this story... so if you can, while reading, listen to Third Eye Blind's "Deep Inside of You" off their album "Blue." It's amazing.

Another note: I'm trying to finish this as I watch 'Prelude to a Recount' on 'The Daily Show' so... it might... you know, be crap.

Summary: 'She reached out and traced random designs in the grainy surface, wiping them away when her arm had reached its extent, and starting over.' G/S

**HERE WE GO! EVERYONE READ! If you don't feel like reading consensual sex between two adults in an R setting eventually, bail the boat now. I've updated the story, revised, and re-rated. So, if you have a problem with my writing, please by all means send me and email and I'll address the issue at hand. Thanks so much. Here's Stalemate though, back from the dark, dark abyss. THANKS MARK!!!**

---

It's inevitable.

Power must shift. Balance is thrown helter-skelter. The status quo favors one side or another. And it all happens in time. For some, it takes an ungodly amount of years, a glacier movement to turn the tides. For others, a decision is made in a matter of a moment-an instance-in which someone says or does something that's unable to be undone.

Then, the ribbon unravels and unleashes chaos, or anger or unbridled passion or love. But at that moment, the ribbon is pulled taut-and a thin line must be walked. Because that new establishment that has been made, the new change that one has come to terms with, it is already unbalanced. A small breeze can set off a storm of events, ending in catastrophe.

In such cases, each person must be willing to mold around the mirrored aspects of the other and offset the rocking. Surely, if both were crowded at one end of the spectrum, everything would tilt and spin off into the inevitable: stalemate.

A lone woman sat on a worn wooden plank. The other end of the plank high in the air, no one to counter balance the child's plaything. Her chin rested on her knees, partially to block her upper body from the cool desert night air and partially because her head felt heavy. So heavy, that she couldn't continue to walk with it, with all the thoughts there.

If felt as if thousands of protons were slamming against each other inside her skull, all looking to bond but finding no opposite charge to bond with. No counter, no balance.

Everything, everything was off balance.

There, under the bright October moon, Sara Sidle allowed her head to sway, letting her cheek come to rest on her right knee. The position was slightly uncomfortable but thought that the new position would perchance dislodge some of the charged particles floating about her person.

It was frightening that the small park offered her more solace and solitude than her own apartment did. There, in her own home, she felt caged and closed in. Often Sara found herself moving from one task to the other, without having completed the previous task before abandoning it. Her body no longer felt comfort sleeping in her bed, and no tension was released when she would bathe in bathroom. She felt as though she could not cook in her kitchen, as though all of her creativity was stolen from her when she crossed the threshold into a supposed sanctuary.

The implements of childhood memories were strewn about her. An impeccably clean sandbox to her left and a swing set to her right. She glanced at it for a moment, watching at the swings swayed back and forth in the breeze. One swinging forward while the other completed its period and moved in the opposite direction. It reached its maximum point of energy and swung back, still offsetting it's partner. Back, and forth, so fluid. So easy.

She rocked herself forward, planting her hands in the dewy earth. Her feet pressed down as well, surely creating impressions. Good impressions to cast she thought idly to herself. Her mind, a closed circuit, always seemed to return to the forensic, to the definite and the logical.

Unlike the swings, she didn't let a little breeze offset her carefully practiced motions. It had taken her a good time to set herself in motion, allowing herself to find peace and comfort and balance in the fact that her life wasn't balanced. It took her a good time to fall headlong into work, forgetting that she wasn't his, that she would never be.

Now, the cool stream of air that blew across her face caused the particles in her head to attempt to break mach speed. Sara could feel the beginnings of a migraine tickling the bottom of her skull and winced whilst pinching the bridge of her nose.

Brown hair fell into her eyes, and she shook her head, disrupting the molecular commotion in her cranium. Slowly, gazing down at her feet, she moved over the silver-strewn ground until she reached the sandbox and perched herself on the edge. She reached out and traced random designs in the grainy surface, wiping them away when her arm had reached its extent, and starting over.

It took her some time, but she managed to concoct a rendering of the park in the sand. Sitting back, she stared down at it, leaned in and drew in a stick figure on the edge of the sandbox. Her lips twisted into a ghost of a smile. Sara found a stick on the ground behind her and began on another scene. As she drew with her right hand, she swung her legs over the edge and into the sandbox, bringing her knees up once more. She leaned her left elbow on her knee and her cheek on her palm.

The wind picked up and blew grains of salt over her new picture. They came to rest on the left side of the box, creating mini sand dunes. Sara thought of snow, and began tracing a winter scene, complete with snowmen and skiers.

Sand drifted up, mingling with the wind to settle in her hair, and over her arms and legs. It was pointless to brush it off, content to let it settle into her pores, refreshing her in an odd manner.

Behind her at some distance she heard the soft closing of a car door, it echoed back at her off of the trees, and she turned to see Grissom, hands in his pockets walking towards her.

He looked younger, healthier than he had in ages. Worry lines on his face thinning and disappearing, bags under his eyes receding ever so much, ever so little that the only person able to perceive the change was someone who watched him constantly. Someone who could decipher him. As he walked, slowly, he bowed his head, his eyes becoming obstructed by the Red Sox hat that he wore.

That was something new, Sara realized. He always favored his forensics cap even when he was off duty. But she noted the dustiness of it, the frayed brim and saw it as a treasured article of his, just another morsel of knowledge that she had learned about him. Her cheeks became hot when she smiled, remembering that he had once mentioned his affinity for baseball.

"Hey." She called brightly, yet softly, as if the decibel level might crack the placidity of the moment, destroy the moon's grace on the grass. He heard her words and his lips perked a tiny bit, his eyes rising to meet hers. A silent question was posed.

"I was headed home, and saw your car. Just wondering what you're up to." The calmness of his voice, the sereneness of his eyes somehow prompted her to turn back to the sand and resume drawing. He stood up on his tiptoes, gaining a better view of what she was doing, and truly smiled, but wiped it off of his face a moment later when she spoke.

"I'm just... drawing." Sara replied, swirling the stick around in the grains for emphasis. This time, all of her shapes and renderings were abstract. Her mind couldn't seem to focus on one particular thing she wanted to draw. It seemed as if the arrival of her supervisor had quieted down the particles in her head, setting the ones that resided in her stomach off in a frenzy.

She got the sudden urge to run over to the seesaw and find out if her weight could be counter balanced by his but she refrained from movement. Holding the thin stick in her hand, she waited for him to speak, to see if he would want to speak of abstract things with her. He sighed and moved directly behind her. She poked his foot with the stick and looked up, silently asking him to sit with her, if only for a moment.

Quiet moments were all too few in her world, as in his and she hoped he would accept her invitation.

His eyes flitted briefly to the moon, then back down to her eyes. His teeth came down and worried his bottom lip as he bent and settled in next to her, his heavy boots sinking in the sand, making slight sinking impressions around them. They both watched as the grains slowed and stopped in their movement towards the ruts his body had left.

"I can't imagine you came here just to find a blank canvas." He too reached out and found a piece of stick and began drawing in the makeshift canvas. His eyes followed the lines that his hands dictated as she picked up her ministrations again.

"That was merely an added-" She paused as she put the finishing touch on a Christmas tree. "Bonus." She finished, sighed and leaned back, stretching out the kinks in her back. He moved his hand and solved the equation she had drawn in the sand and dropped his stick on the grass, turning his attention to her, though not looking at her.

"I see." He didn't see, but he felt as if he should say something to break the stalemate they had both willingly fallen under.


	2. Defining Moments

A/N: Well the first chapter wasn't exactly received. Hopefully, this one will fare better. Thanks as always to Joan for her constant support.

Defining Moments

"I just, needed to stop for awhile, let my mind wander, see if it could sort some kinks out on its own." She chuckled a bit and smiled and turned to look at him, kicking the sand with her left foot.

"Did it... un-kink itself then?" He asked, more than a little curious what her reply would be. The two of them had closed themselves off to each other recently, and hadn't found the loophole that would set them back on their desired path. He wished for nothing more than to settle back into his old pattern with Sara. To banter, to flirt, to pretend like there was nothing between them. He was comfortable with the previous status quo and longer to have it back in place, like a lace veil that hung over both of their eyes', distorting their view of the other.

Sara sighed and turned her head slowly in his direction. "Not really. Actually, not at all." She laughed, but kept her eyes on Grissom. He smiled, a real smile this time, one that showed teeth, but kept his eyes focused in front of him. Compulsively, his hand snaked out and fell on top of hers on the worn wood of the sandbox.

It was a childlike gesture really, accompanied by a very childish blush, and an old teenage urge to snatch his hand away. But he didn't, he let it settle there, let her skin warm his in the cold night. The wind swept up again, depositing yet more grains of sand over Sara and a small dusting on Grissom.

When he didn't move to brush it off, Sara did, bringing her unengaged hand up to his shoulder. She progressed across his chest and ran her fingers over the brim of his hat slowly, wishing he didn't have it on so that she could run her fingers through his hair. She only wished she knew what his hair felt like. It was strange things like that that she wondered. She wished she knew if kissing him on the ear would excite him, if his elbows were dry, as hers often were, if he ever sang in the shower. She wished she knew it all.

But she settled for knowing that when she reached over and brushed the sand off of his cheek, he flinched and the color in his eyes changed. It was quite easy for Sara to see that he was battling with something within himself. Before she could make another move, just to see how far he would let her take it, he spoke, soft and slow.

"This is it, isn't it? This is the defining moment." Sara couldn't quite understand how he could seem so detached and yet so invested at the same time. Her breath hitched on a sigh in her chest, unsure of what to say, again worried that she would break some sort of spell that had fallen upon her. "This is where I choose. I have to choose."

Grissom blinked and looked down at his hand resting upon hers. His was so much bigger, nearly smothering hers, but yet, he felt as if it were her hand covering his. The left side of his face ticked up in something that resembled a smile but she couldn't see it. She had resigned herself to staring out at the trees, waiting for him to decide just what the hell he was talking about.

Without warning, he brought his right hand up to her face, cautiously, slowly. He swiped a strand of hair out of her eyes, causing her gaze to falter, settle and turn to face his. His eyes held something that she hadn't seen before, a kind of sadness that was bone deep, coupled with a weariness and wantonness that battled for dominance. Sara wanted nothing more than to rest her face in his touch but she held off, knowing that everything about that moment had to be played correctly, slowly, methodically.

His thumb swept over her cheekbone and she could feel his hand shaking, just a bit. He was losing control, only slightly, but still, he was losing control. Her cheeks heated up to the point she was sure her skin would blister. Sara was sure he felt it when he made a second pass over her cheek. Grissom's hand then came to settle on the curve of Sara's neck, almost as if to steady her.

And then, then he just sat there, staring at her, the fire in his eyes dying a fraction, but enough to make her drop her gaze and smile embarrassed. How could she ever really think that-

And he swooped down and his lips were on hers, the mere whisper of a kiss. Sara was shocked for a moment and held off on movement to soak everything in. His scent, his texture, the moon, the brim of his ball cap scratching over the top of her scalp. Then she moved in closer and added a bit of pressure and taking his bottom lip in between his.

Grissom was shocked himself. He was quite stunned to realize that the move he had made wasn't just in his head. His lips were actually pressed solidly to Sara Sidle's. Correction, they were pressed against hers before she had surged ahead and taken his lower lip gently between her own and sucked. His mind processed the fact, rather belatedly, that Sara hadn't pulled away, nor had she slapped him. Apparently, she had ruled that it wasn't too late for him.

His cap fell off of his head and into the sand. He forgot to care.

"Now..." Sarah said on a sigh, pulling back from him, keeping her eyes shut. "Was that so hard?"

Grissom rested his forehead on hers. His skin was clammy from the sweat. He too kept his eyes closed, but extracted his left hand from her right and brought both of his hands up to her face. He stroked it gently and looked at her, opening his eyes as she did hers. "Yes, yes it was."

"Mmm." She pursed her lips and nodded her head.

And suddenly, once more, his lips were back on hers, much more forceful, her tongue snaking out to enter the equation. His mind spun off to the back of his head, causing him to quite literally swoon. Sara's hands came up to trail through his hair, and for a moment, she savored the feeling. So that was what his hair felt like.

His lips trailed off from her lips and sought a path down her neck, finding sand and grit covering the skin there. He pulled back, much to her confusion. "You're dirty."

"Wha-what?" Sara blinked many times, attempted to clear the fog that had inhabited her brain. "Dirty? I'm dirty?" Her brain couldn't quite wrap around his words.

"Sara," He swiped a finger over her neck, darting low to sweep over her collarbone. She gasped, but met his eyes. Grissom held his finger up, and she peered down it. It was covered in flecks of sand that caught the milky light from the moon.

"Ohhh." Sara blushed and swept her hands across her neck. "I am kinda gritty huh?" She choked out a laugh. She was embarrassed, though she knew she had to reason to be. She just felt slightly upset that everything hadn't gone fluidly.

"We have to get you cleaned up." He stated suddenly, his eyes boring into her upturned ones, burning with a great certainty. Cleaned up, she needed to get cleaned up. Sara was incredibly confused, but the confusion was a mere tickling at the back of her throat. She was lost in his eyes, trying to decipher exactly what he was trying to communicate to her. Sara was quite certain that it would have been easier to figure out what he was trying to tell her, if she didn't still feel him on her lips. If she couldn't still smell him.

"Let's go." He tugged on her hand, and boneless, she rose, being led along by him. In front of her, he led them to her car and stopped by the passenger door. She stood there, looking at him, confused. His lips betrayed a slow smile, something mischievous and mysterious. She blinked and wetted her lips, expectant of his words.

But he didn't speak.

Instead, he reached out, down, into her jeans pocket and searched for her keys. He found none. Lifting his hand from the pocket, he trailed his fingertips over the sensitive flesh of her stomach, which was barely peeking out from the edge of her shirt. Sara gasped, but made sure that her eyes never left his. He tugged his hands into the other pocket, clasped the cold metal and returned triumphant.

Grissom unlocked the car, and held the passenger door open for her. Her hair fell in front of her face when she looked down at the ground and smiled. A bashful smile, a smile of wonder. "Chivalry?" She asked when he extended his hand, as the Denali was quite high and required her to take a step up.

He smiled. "Mi-lady." She got in, clasped her hands together in her lap and sighed. Wonderful, she felt wonderful and alive and anticipatory. The palms of her hands were sweating, so she rubbed them on the front of her pants and clasped them once more.

Keys in hand, Grissom entered the car and started the engine. Without a word, he began to drive. From time to time, they would sneak a peek at each other, catching each other's eyes and instead of looking away... holding.

Holding the gaze.

Her mind continued to stray off into strange territory until she felt a sudden lurch, signifying that the car had stopped and was parked. Grissom, patient, waited until his companion shook herself out of her reverie and looked at him. "My place?"

"I was going to drop you off-"

"Would you like to come in?" Sara berated herself for just how cliché it sounded, but could think of no other way to get him inside. Asking him to strip off of his clothes and climb into her bed was pushing it, but that was indeed where she wanted him. In her bed, in her heart.

"I suddenly sense a lack of masculinity." Grissom grinned, the last of his reluctance and fear slipping away. "Isn't the man supposed to ask that and lead the woman into his 'humble abode'?"

"Well, if you'd like to drive thirty minutes out of your way to get to your place, I suppose I could understand but-"

"We're already here." He said, getting out of her car and walking over to open the door for her. Again, extending his hand to assist in her safe arrival on the pavement.

Sara laughed and looked straight at him, met his quizzical gaze. "It's just that this is a bit much Grissom. No one's ever done something quite like this... with the pacing and the... the, tenderness and the, well, consideration." Sara, herself found it quite funny. Grissom however, found it sad. Sad that in the thirty years she had been on the earth, no one had taken the time to see that she was truly comfortable and taken care of and satiated.

He was unsure if he should apologize or brush it off. She made up his mind for him, shutting the door and slipping her left hand into his right one and leading them up the stairs to her building.

"Not your style then Ms. Sidle?" He inquired, fidgeting with the keys that he still held until he found the correct one.

"I'm not used to... liking it." She replied, leaning in to plant her lips against his neck for a moment, kissing him there. She was thrilled with herself for allowing such a spontaneous thing to come from her.

Breath hitched in his throat and his hands stilled when he looked down at her. He looked dangerous and mysterious, but at the same time unsure and infantile. "You like it then?" Sara had never heard him so unsure of himself, on such shaky footing.

"Mmm, more than I'd be willing to admit." Sheepishly, her admission came out. And as soon as her words were uttered, he had her pressed against the door, one hand on the key in the lock, the other extracting from hers, coming to press against the cold glass by her head.

Grissom's lips landed on hers in a rush and she squeaked in surprise and laughed against him. He too smiled, feeling elated, as if something inside of him had suddenly been released with her laugh. Sara's hands came up to press against his chest, pushing him away from her.

"Inside." Her lips forced a mutter, tearing them away from his flesh to guide his hand to turn the key in the lock.

She pulled as he pushed. They balanced, stumbling up the stairs, somewhat hand in hand, wonderfully off balance.

They had never been so comfortable being so off kilter. For a long time, as long as they could remember, they had both been comfortable in their love for each other without expressing any words. Without having told the other. She had been comfortable in the image that she saw of him, strong, smart, quiet. And he in her-smart, defiant, beautiful without a touch of makeup.

Their combined footsteps were heaving as they trudged down the hallway, as if two drunken teenagers too giddy and lustful to sneak into a house unheard.

And he had never felt so young and vibrant. She had never felt so out of control and, well, and loved. Loved in a way that she wasn't sure he could express in words. But Sara took the feeling and bottled it in her mind, for what she didn't want to think would be the lonely nights to come.

Though she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him, all of him, regardless of the circumstances that they were under, she wasn't quite sure that Gil Grissom could be as fearless in the morning as he was proving to be there in the moment, at three in the morning.

The two of them managed to make it to her door in one piece, barely.

He placed his hands gently on her face, forcing them to slow down. They stood there, forehead to forehead, breathing hard. "Open the door." He said, nearly panting out his words to her.

"You have the keys." Sara reminded him, grinning impossibly wide. She had forced Gil Grissom off of his axis, jumbling his mind. "Can't think straight Griss?"

"I'm blinded by your beauty. It befuddles me."

"And alliteration too, amazing. But, I'm sad to note that I didn't blind you with science?" Her jab was delivered with a bite to his earlobe and another exquisite grin.

"That... that was terrible Sara." Grissom replied and nearly laughed. The synapses in his brain didn't have enough coherence to make him laugh. They were too preoccupied with firing impulses to his hand, which was again, fitting the key into the lock. He managed to open the door without any help from his companion and gently pushed them both inside, into the dark warmth of her apartment.

Sara was startled by the silence inside, but remembered that she had turned off the air conditioner for the week, as it was predicted to be impossibly cool.

Grissom paused for a moment, realizing that he was actually inside Sara Sidle's apartment. He was standing there, in the middle of her personal space with her in his arms. She too paused, wondering what had caused him to stop running his hands up her sides.

His gaze traveled up and down the dark walls, his eyes pacing slowly over the soothingly dark colors. For some reason, the fact that her house was done in warm tones, made him smile. Warm, rich, inviting and mysterious. Sara's home was modeled after her own personality, whether she knew it or not. Grissom's arms slackened around her and he moved away, walking over to her bookshelves to peruse the titles.

Sara held back, stood in the shadows and grinned. Ever the investigator, Grissom was curious about her, about her surroundings. He was jolted to reality, to the fact that he had a wanton woman waiting for him and turned around, holding his hands out to the sides. "I want to see you." He gestured around him, to her belongings, as a form of explanation and rendered another wide grin from her.

"Take your time." Her cheeks felt pleasantly warm, no longer hot, and her lips felt heavy, her stomach still in a state of chaos. "I'll make some coffee." Under the circumstances, they had both expected the silence that they fell into to eventually become uncomfortable. It didn't. Gil felt strangely at home, a feeling that he couldn't adequately place, as he listened to sounds of her acts in the kitchen.

Instead of flicking a proper light on in the living room, she bent over to plug in the icicle lights she had strung up, bathing the room in a warm glow, one that Grissom thought fit the mood quite well. His fingertips came out to play over the titles on her bookshelves, sampling the leather and paper with inquisitive hands. When his fingers passed over a familiar title, he pulled it out.

"I see it's well worn." Keeping his back to her, he held the book over his head so that she could see what he was referring to.

"Well, with a boss like you, I'd it expect it to be, wouldn't you?" She joked, reaching up, grabbing two mugs from her cupboard. Grissom turned just in time to see her shirt lift a bit, bearing the warm skin that he had formerly been touching. Something within him flared up, purely at the knowledge of finally knowing what that skin felt like. He replaced the book carefully and walked over to where she stood in the kitchen.

For a moment, he just watched her, pulling out the sugar, setting out spoons. When he could stand it no more her moved to stand behind her. Gentle hands came out to brush over her forearms.

"I don't know... where this is going tonight..." He trailed off. For a moment, he was sure that what he had said would seem like he didn't want to take the situation where it was inevitably going. He wanted her as much as he ever had, and though he found that an amazing amount of progress had been made in the interim of two hours, he didn't want it to seem to Sara that it had to happen immediately.

"It goes... where it goes." She said quietly and carefully, turning around slowly. Grissom placed his palms flat on the counter and stared down at the woman in his arms. He nuzzled his nose in her hair for a moment before once again capturing her lips with his. Against her own will, she smiled as he kissed her, until he slowed and stopped.

"What?" Gil inquired good naturedly, stepping back to allow her some space.

"Coffee." She whispered spinning around and filling two mugs, shoving one into his hand carefully. He stared at her for a moment, smiled and turned to the counter to put some sugar in the mug. She too smiled, and filled her own mug with half and half retrieved from the refrigerator.

She left Grissom to his own devices in the kitchen and made her way into the living room, quickly plopping herself down on her sofa, finding herself somehow warm and comforted by the sporadic light that the icicles provided. Grissom added half and half to his coffee and turned and leaned on the counter, watching Sara as she stared up her own brand of mood lighting.

His heart lurched and his head spun and in that second he couldn't get enough of the sight of her. Sensing him, she turned and tilted her head in silent question. He slowly pushed himself away from the counter and made his way over to her.

"Mood lighting?" A salt and pepper eyebrow arched at her over his coffee cup. She too took a long drink from her mug, matching his raised brow with one of her own.

"Yes, the entire set up was pre-determined in order to seduce you Grissom. So astute, so astute." Sara felt light and carefree, able to speak so freely in his presence.

"You, of all people Sara, should have known there was no need. You easily seduced me with your mind." She grinned at him, and he continued to speak. "Though, there's something to say about your smile and voice as well, but, again, as you know, I'm not one who tends to wax poetic."

"That's a lie." She laughed and set her mug on the coffee table, slipping off her shoes and bringing her stockinged feet up underneath her. Grissom took a more relaxed stance on the couch next to her, turning and leaning back, facing her more fully.

"No, I quote poetry when it's relevant to something that happens. I never intended to use the words to seduce you, Miss Sidle, as the atmosphere here was of course... to a different end." Sara mockingly looked aghast, and taken aback.

"I take offense!" She squealed, tucking herself together more tightly. "Had I known that Christmas lights were the way to your heart, I would have saved myself the trouble years ago Griss."

It was said good naturedly enough, but it still stung him a bit. One look into his eyes proved that he was indeed sorry for making her wait. For his seemingly endless deliberation. For his distance.

"But I guess what matters is that I didn't save myself the trouble right?" It was said to lighten the mood but it still hung in the air between them. She waited for him to respond in some way. "Or... not." Uneasy for the first real time during the evening, she shook her head, sighed and reached out for her coffee.

"It's easy to wear your heart on your sleeve when you're not looking in his eyes?" Grissom spoke the words that he had heard her say to him years before. He put his mug down on the table and sat back once more, suddenly acutely aware of just how many times the two of them had spoken in double entendres, in innuendo, in words coated with longing. "All that time... all that time and I never..."

Sara smiled, one of sadness and longing and moved over to sit by him. Though he was present, he was lost in deep thought, his eyes focusing on an undisclosed point in the room. She waited a moment, and reached out to touch him. He snapped from his reverie and smiled sadly at her.

Slowly, she licked her lips and moved down to kiss her softly, slowly and delicately. It was overwhelmingly sorrowful and yet full of promise.

"That's what it's about tonight." He spoke when he disengaged from her, leaning his forehead against hers as he had done before. "Sara, I'm so lonely with you here."

For the first time that evening, she was truly taken aback by his words. She honestly didn't understand.

"No, that's not what I meant. What I meant, before you, that is, I wasn't lonely. And when I met you, well, when you came to Vegas, as soon as you were here, I was so lonely without you. As if I'd had you before and you'd been taken away, though it was the complete opposite. I just, I can't believe how much you fill me up-" Grissom paused in his speech, realizing how absurd and cliché he sounded. Sara ran a hand over his cheek and he turned back and looked out of her living room window.

"But we're here now, right?" She asked, moving her face back to where his was turned toward the outside. He slowly turned his head back so that their eyes met.


	3. Monumental Shift

**:::waves hands around animatedly::: Seriously, turn back! Can't handle the R turn back. **

**:::waits:::…**

**:::taps foot:::…**

**:::checks watch:::…**

**:::bitterly looks to see if Stalemate is deleted yet:::…**

**Okay then! On with the show!!!**

---

Grissom bit his top lip and fought to keep his eyes steady on hers. "There's not a fiber of my being that doesn't want to make love to you, right now." Sara stayed rooted to the spot, suddenly blown off course by his admission. She had felt his desire for her, seen it in his eyes, but to actually hear him say it... it rocked her.

"Well then..." She got out before his lips sealed themselves over hers in a manner that was more forceful than before.

He pulled away suddenly. "But, I can't have this be misinterpreted as a... as a fling Sara. This is, this would be..."

"It's all I've wanted from the beginning." She said to him before standing up and grabbing his hand. His eyes narrowed and confusion filtered into his face.

"Would you prefer the couch?" Her voice contained both uncertainty and humor as she waited for his answer. It took a moment for her words and their meaning to sink in. Sara grinned and ducked her head as she led him through the hall to her bedroom.

"One second." She told him when they reached the door, and she disappeared back down the hall. Where, Grissom didn't know. He stood there in her bedroom surveying his surroundings. Her bed looked incredibly comfortable, the type of bed that one longed to come home to after a long day of work. Her drapes were wispy, but dark, as were the walls. Her furniture was of dark wood, possibly mahogany, but he couldn't be sure, and he wasn't about to make a detailed inspection of her bedroom before he made a detailed inspection of her.

She returned a moment later and cautiously moved in front of him. For a moment she wasn't sure if she could meet his eyes but did, excited by what she saw there.

They stood there for a moment in the dim light of her bedroom. The sun was beginning to rise over the city, filtering peach colored light in through the blinds.

Sara stood in front of him looking up into his eyes. She was unsure where to begin, so she reached down and grasped the hem of her shirt. His hands reached out and stilled hers, bewilderment cloudy her dark eyes. Grissom nearly laughed, bent down and kissed her quickly. "Let me do that honey."

And she beamed at him, reached up with soft hands and clasped his face between them. She kissed him slowly and deeply and he allowed his arms to snake around her waist, balancing her counterbalance. Sara deftly maneuvered the backwards to the bed seating herself down on the edge, letting her arms fall slack, allowing her eager body to relax.

Grissom trailed a finger over her cheek and felt her tremble. He smiled and sighed and reached down and pulled her shirt over her head. He watched as a blush crept slowly over her chest. He allowed his gaze to linger on her simple mango colored bra, the only extravagance on it a bit of lace. Simple.

Simple but sexy.

Feeling much bolder, he moved closer to her, bent down and pushed her to the mattress with insistent lips. He spread himself out beside her, splaying her hand over her ribs. Almost imperceptibly she gasped, licked her lips and blinked a few times. For a moment she wondered if she should pinch herself just to be extra sure that he was real.

His elbow supported him when he moved over to kiss her, lips moving almost of their own volition. The sun raised higher, its orange light casting her skin in a deep, eerie glow.

Sara's fingers shot out quickly and settled on the buttons of his dress shirt. Lips paused over hers for a moment, allowing a moment for her lips to turn up. He felt her smile and smiled as well, then kissing her hard, successfully wiping the smirk from her face as she finished with the buttons of his shirt.

Sara's hands slowly pushed the shirt from his shoulders and he sat up to shrug it off. It was then that he realized that he hadn't undone the wrist buttons and stopped.

"What?" She queried.

He turned his body so that she could see the predicament that he was in. Her lips plunged down in a mock frown and then she laughed loudly, reaching out to help him before stopping herself. An evil look passed over her face and she leaned back on both palms.

"Sara, this would go a lot faster if..." He trailed off, his voice dying in mock frustration.

"But just imagine all the things I could do to you..." She trailed off as well, having difficulty with the inside out nature of his shirt. She cursed under her breath but finally slipped the button through the hole. Grissom quickly threw his shirt off and launched himself at her.

He nuzzled her neck and breathed deeply, smelling her scent, mixed with dirt. He moved back. Grissom stood over her and looked down. "One second." He said and walked slowly through her bedroom door until her found the bathroom.

Once there, he turned on the light and looked around at his surroundings. The tiles were dark blue, soothing like the dark red tones in her living room. He felt comfortable, set a bit at ease by the blue. He briefly scanned over her toiletries, her shampoos, the forensic journals on the back of her toilet. Grissom smiled and shook his head, locating a washcloth and saturating it with warm water.

He walked back into the room, finding Sara turned on her side, the covers pulled up over her. Her eyebrow shot up as he walked back into her room, rid of his shirt, hair out of control. Sara's stomach fluttered at the picture before her: the man she loved, flushed in her room.

In her room... not her bed.

"And you left... why?" She asked him, as he came to sit next to her on the bed. He tilted his head, amused at her impatience.

"You taste like dirt." He said bluntly, lifting up the cloth. He swept it gently over her neck, the air cooling her skin and tickling as it dried. He brought it down to her colarbone and wiped there and then passed over the skin of her cheeks. Finished, he placed the cloth on the bedside table and leaned back down next to her in the warm bed.

She squealed in delight as he pinned her to the mattress. His lips mapped over the freckled skin of her neck, setting her heart racing at an even more erratic pace than it had been before.

Butterfly kisses were scattered over her collarbone, and she gasped, arching up into him, both voluntarily and involuntarily. He surged down into her.

Balance, counterbalance.

His hand smoothed over her stomach and her muscles spasmed, tense and relaxed and she released an intensely shaky breath.

"We doin' okay?" He asked, pausing in his ministrations to check on her. He stared down into her face, surprised to see how flushed she was, how her lips glistened and hung open. How dark her eyes had become. He detected many emotions there, one in particular that his too held. And emotion that he couldn't voice.

"I, I can't get enough of your eyes." She whispered, tightening the hands that had been clutching his back. Grissom sighed slowly, took his hand from her stomach and ran it through her hair.

"Sara, Sara, Sara..." He began teasingly but quickly became serious. "How did I ever do without this?" She smiled a tiny ghost of a smile.


	4. Ego Boost

Thanks: XxBandGeekxX, made my day. :-D

A/N: And here we go folks, some much needed smut for all of you who are following this. People don't realize JUST what reviews do for me (not THAT much ;-D but enough). I open my email and I see Alert!' and I get entirely too excited. You people who take the time to respond really keep people like me writing. P.S. This is WAAAY better than writing term papers. Boo finals! Boo college!

Always: Rockin Joan and Lauren.

This is getting tedious… okay… R R R R R R R R. That's what it's rated.

---

"Without what?" She inquired, his previous question truly confusing her.

"Without lo-" He paused in spite of himself and looked away, over at the sun dawning through the dark drapes. He traced the red glow all over the room and back to her eyes. "Without you."

She raised her eyebrow and quirked her lip seeing what he wouldn't say lingering in the pools of his eyes. Her own hands came up to scratch over her scalp. His eyes drooped and closed for a minute. When he opened them, her lips were close to his ear, preparing to say something.

"I love you." She whispered, pressing her index finger against his lips, telling him silently that he needn't say anything. "Just didn't think I could do this without saying it." She finished and removed her finger. Grissom's eyes slipped closed as he released a shaky breath. "How the hell... I'm such a lucky man." He growled, allowing his mouth to fall upon her throat.

A swift hand once again stole down her body, toying with the hem of her jeans. Giving her leeway, a last chance to stop him. She made no move to, but moaned instead, prompting his hand to unbutton and unzip his trousers. Lips vibrated as he hummed against her warm skin, licking. Sara attempted to stay as still as possible, which was proving to be increasingly difficult. Her throat emitted a groan when his lips began a detailed exploration of the flesh of her stomach.

"Gr-Griss, you're killing me." Her throat felt like the Gobi from gasping so much. He chuckled, the vibrations of it passing over her nerve endings. Her hands pushed on his shoulders, but he refused to budge. She shoved again and he chuckled again. She too laughed, but shifted her weight, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and flipped them over.

Grissom was stunned at her strength, but grinned none-the-less, she shucked her own pants and straddled him. Her hair was wild and skin pink when she smiled down at him. She had never looked so beautiful. His hands rested gently on her hips, toying with the scrap of fabric there.

"We're really gonna do this, huh?" His thumbs entered the equation and brushed over her hipbone. Gazing up at her with adoration, he slipped his index fingers under the straps at her waist.

"Well, that's up to you." She stated, stilling the hands on his shoulders, smiling down at him, a few stray hairs clinging to her wet lips.

"To me?" Since when had the decision become his, he wondered. Then, his mind was taken back to a time in which she had asked him to dinner and he had refused. She had then made it clear she knew exactly how to handle things between the two of them, but was patient enough to admit that she was waiting for him.

"Uh huh." She nodded, the hair becoming free and floating about in front of her face before settling haphazardly on top of the other unruly strands. She almost wanted to cross her hands over her chest to prove that she was incredibly serious about what was happening. He knew that it was a serious situation and the entire balance of their relationship rested in his answer.

His hands grasped her hips and flipped them over quickly, a move that she had taken the initiative on earlier. Her eyes were wide under him, surprised at his action.

"You'd... like to continue. Interesting." She winked at him and then looked down, in between them. "Perhaps we should remove your pants then."

"That would be a necessary step, yes." His smile was dazzling as he sat up. She took sat up, drawing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, running her fingers slowly through his hair. He returned her kiss, running his tongue forcefully over hers. She broke off the kiss, shifting herself our from under him, as he turned and fell on his back, allowing him to remove his pants. He tossed them on a chair in the corner, turned back to her quickly and pulled her back down to him. "I'm all about the procession." He said, once more claiming her lips.

He finally managed to unhook her bra, reaching around her back and undoing the clasp. He slid the straps down her arms so slowly she wanted to scream. He tossed it somewhere and set to work on removing the rest of her clothing. She lifted her hips after a minute and he pulled the scrap of fabric off, tossing it in the general direction of the other clothing.

Grissom paused and let his eyes sweep over her body. His eyes darkened just a fraction and he swept his fingers once again over her hipbone. She waited for him to get his fill, but it took longer than she had expected. Then again, she thought, he was an investigator and was surely mapping the planes of her body with his eyes. For a minute he simply lay, learning every freckle, every scar that he could decipher amongst the shadows playing over her skin.

Sara began to feel slightly self-conscious, and she made a move to sit up. Grissom's hand came out to settle on her hips more firmly and stilled her. She looked at him with a questioning gaze. "Let me look at you honey. You're so, you're so..."

Sara smiled, suddenly quite embarrassed. "You gonna window shop all day or are you planning to purchase?" She quipped, balling up the bedspread in her fist.

"I fully intend to purchase." Grissom said, pausing and looking at her, his brow creased tightly. "I hate to think of this now but..."

"Oh, uh, the pill."

It was all the explanation he needed.

He grinned, and slowly turned them both over, his hand smoothing down her back as he laid her out on the bed. He moved in for a quick kiss, giving her the advantage so she could slide her hands down and divest him of the remainder of his clothing. Sara quirked her lip, knowingly doing it again, making him smile as well.

Sara licked her lips and they paused. He gave her a tender look, raising a brow at her to give her one last out, a chance to back out. All she did was close her eyes and smile. His thumb swept over her cheek, and she opened her eyes; he kissed her slowly, spending moments mapping her mouth, pulling at her lips and tongue. She sighed into his mouth as his lips pulled slowly away.

"Open your eyes Sara." He whispered, his breath cascading over her face. She did, and was met with an incredibly intense stare. "I, I can't get enough of you." He whispered.

She gasped and clenched her eyes shut, bordering on cringing. Sara blew quick breaths out of her mouth, breathing in shakily.

"Sara, Sara open your eyes." He whispered, shakily as well. Slowly, she heeded to his request, her eyes tearful when she looked up at him. A tiny smile played on her lips, then she blew another steadying breath out between her moist lips.

"What's wrong?" He asked, positively still-still and worried-over her. She wanted to tell him all of the thoughts that she was thinking, the true emotions that were coursing through her. They were threatening to spill from her already, though she knew that they would halt the moment, that her words would frighten him away.

"Nothing, nothing." She replied, shaking it off, suppressing her words with a smile. He too smiled, looking at her for one more moment before he kissed her once again and began to move.

A moan caught in her throat, and her hands came up to claw at his back. He gasped at this, allowing his hands to tangle in her hair. Her eyes were everywhere but his. So he stared at her face, willing her silently to look at him.

Suddenly, he stopped, flipping them over, draping her over his body.

"Sara." He pressed, somewhat forcefully. "Tell me what's wrong. And don't tell me nothing's wrong. I can see it in your eyes."

"It's just... just baggage." She tried to pass it off as nothing.

"Then let me carry it. I'm a gentleman." He squeezed her and winked.

"Griss, I don't-"

"Sara, I love you."

"-think that, what?"

"I love you Sara." He too tried to pass it off in nonchalance, as if his heart didn't feel two tons lighter.

"Well. She said, incredibly surprised that he had allowed himself to utter the words. He waited for her response and when she didn't offer one he became frightened.

"Sara?"

"You... love me." She tested the words in her mouth, felt the weight of them settle in her heart.

"Say it again." She whispered into his neck, hoping that she wasn't pushing, hoping that he could say them again, hoping that he hadn't just said it in the heat of the moment. Deep down, she knew he hadn't but her heart had to be sure.

"-in love with you Sara." He mumbled into her hair, warm breath cascading over his scalp.

"Oh god." She rasped and kissed him hard, moving on top of him. His hands found her hips and pressed there.. Sara gritted her teeth, bit her lip, bit her lip too hard and drew blood. When she kissed him he tasted the metallicy liquid and something within him awoken.

His mind turned to the purely scientific. Coitus involved the exchange of fluids, ending when the male ejaculated into the female. The female then went away with the male inside of her. Now, Sara was offering herself to him. Her blood, inside of him. Balancing him off, her essence swimming with her saliva inside of his mouth. He moaned, knowing that she was giving herself as willingly to him as he was giving himself to her.

She moved atop of him with a purpose, her lip caught between her teeth, her cry strangled. His hands came up, stunned at her unorthodox beauty, unsure of where to fall. Sensing his despair, she reached out and placed them on her body. He groaned, just as she did, completely startled that the scenario that they had both been hoping for was actually playing out.

Not to say that they had put the thought out of their mind; not to say they hadn't realized that it would eventually happen. As oblivious as they both were, they both knew they each heart belonged to the other no matter what either assumed.

When she had been seeing Hank, no matter how much he rationalized the situation, as he was prone to do, he couldn't help but feel a flush of jealousy, of despair. And when he refused to divulge integral aspects of his past to her, she felt betrayed and cheap, but couldn't help but want to feel more betrayed by him, just to have some true emotion from him being directed at her.

He groaned, and flipped them over so that she was under him. Her eyes and hair were wild from the tumult that had happened. She was breathing heavily, a flush brushing over her chest. He blinked, several times, biting his lip, then licking his lip. He slowed and moved down and kissed her deeply. Deeper than she had been kissed before. Her head spun and she grasped the back of his neck, disregarding her need for air. Her lungs screamed, and she screamed back, telling them that this was a very important time in her life, that she needed it and to just pipe down for a second.

She panted when they separated and took a brief second before sucking at the pulse point on his neck. She bit down on his flesh, secretly hoping to leave her mark on him; secretly hoping that someone would ask him how he received the mark, that he would tell them the truth.

A new wave washed over her. Sara groaned and clenched her hands painfully in his hair and he stared down at her, licking his lips ferally, watching the emotions play over her features. "God." She muttered, blinking quite slowly and licking her lips, mimicking him. Her body was liquid for a moment as she panted out her sensations.

"You, just-" Grissom asked, stunned into silence.

"Ego boost?" She asked lazily. He groaned and smiled, deeply, the pink rising in his cheeks as he did so. His eyes closed to slits so all he saw was haze... and her. He grunted out his response.

"More than you know."


	5. Completion, For Now

She dug what little nails she had left into his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense and relax, tense and relax. Moving her hands lower, she smoothed them over the warm skin of his back. Sara felt the lithe movements underneath the skin and couldn't help but see the beauty in it all.

Her body was quiet literally on fire, flames licking her face, her arms, her heart. She was sure that she was sweating from all of the effort, but she wasn't focused on anything but the feeling of him, of what he was doing. Just the thought made Sara groan low and deep and wanton, more wanton than she was quite sure she had been before.

Grissom growled back, expertly ducking to suckle on her neck. His lips pulled at her flesh harshly, and then his tongue soothed over it lovingly, relieving her of the pain. But the pain was good, she decided, and heightened the warmth of her skin. "Oh, dear god Jesus." Sara whimpered, completely lost in a sea of incoherent thought. She wasn't quite sure the last time someone had captivated her in such a way that she lost the ability to form rational physical equations in her head. E, yes it did still equal m, c squared but she couldn't for the life of her remember why.

"Mmm..." A slow, throaty moan poured out of her, and she tightened her legs around him exponentially, throwing off his rhythm and pulling her as close to him as he had been since they had begun. He stopped, sweaty and breathless and gazed at her for a moment, the pools of his eyes a softer blue then she had ever seen them. Sara kissed his nose, the blue softening even more, intriguing her brain in a very, very, irrational way.

He, in a playful moment, kissed her nose as well, and then gave her an eskimo kiss. Sara laughed incredibly quietly, so quiet that he could barely hear it... but he felt it. Grissom's eyes squeezed shut tightly and then he kissed her very, very softly, a mere whisper. He resumed, and for a reason Sara couldn't explain, she grinned like a complete idiot and groaned loudly through her gritted teeth.

He responded. She pushed, and he pushed back. They were teeter-tottering on the brink of pure insanity.

"Sara..." He trailed off. Her name sounded so different coming from his lips then, infused with passion, with longing and promise. She wondered for a moment what she sounded like to him.

"Love you Griss." She ground out into his ear, her hot breath coating the shell, her tongue snaking out to lick the lobe, her teeth entering the equation, nipping gently. He groaned, louder than he had before, and captured her lips roughly, tongue plunging into her mouth before she even knew what was happening. Grissom bit her bottom lip in retaliation for his ear and chuckled a bit, allowing his hand to once more feel her skin.

She gasped again. He watched her eyes, how they seemed to glaze over for an instant and smiled at the wonder of it. The science of the orgasm, beautiful. He captured her lips once more, her gasps lost in the cavern of his mouth.

She bit her lip, clenching down on him hard. Grissom clamped his eyes shut but quickly opened them once more. She watched as his face contorted and he said her name on a groan. Hearing him say her name in such a way forced her to grin, and she bit down on his shoulder to stifle what she thought would be emitted as a scream. Everything was silent for a moment.

A bead of sweat slowly rolled off of his brow and landed on her collarbone. The blow from the salty droplet seemed to knock the both of them to the mattress, sated and incredibly sleepy. Sara's eyes fluttered open and slowly shut once more. Grissom brought his hand up to stroke her cheek gently, then her lips. She could smell herself on him and she cracked an eye just a bit to see if he was thinking the same thing.

"Hmmm..." He sighed, beyond relaxed.

She was always unsure of what to do after sex, so she laid there, sheet up to her collarbone. She emitted heavy breaths, matching the cadence of her partner's. He glanced at her, also on his back, the sheet somehow tangled intricately around his waist.

The sun was then high over the city, and the intense purple-tinged orange glow was making the sweat on her neck glisten warmly. Grissom noticed a sliver of doubt-of question- pass over her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her neck, taking her sweat into himself and leaving his saliva on her. He then smiled warmly, deeply and pulled her securely to him, molding her to him from chin to hips. He hummed, letting his eyes slip shut, enjoying the primitive feeling of their skin sticking together.

"Honey?" He asked, voice low and gravely, sounding as if he was clinging to the ledge of sleep. She wasn't sure she'd ever heard him sound so wonderful in her life.

Sara's head swam, she felt like she was drowning and floating at the same time. For a moment, she berated herself for thinking in such a cliché manner, but rationalized that it was about time she indulged that part of her brain. She could feel his body against hers, could smell him and still detect his taste on her tongue... and yet she wasn't entirely sure that he was completely real. Stretching her neck, she swiveled her head around, just barely meeting his eyes.

"Mmm?" Sara's voice was shaky and quiet, afraid that if she actually spoke, she would sob.

"Can we shift, please?" He asked, humor hinting in his voice. "'S kinda uncomfortable here."

Sara sobbed out a laugh and nodded against his chin. He smiled into her hair, held her tightly and rolled her on top of him.

As per usual, the nervous side of her forced her to speak. "That was...nice." She slid off of his chest and settled down on his other side. "Not nice, I mean, yeah, it was nice, but it was-"

Grissom slapped his hand over her mouth, much to her surprise. Gazing at her wide-eyed expression, he chuckled at the ceiling and removed his palm.

"What?" She asked, as a child would when something bothered them. She turned on her side and sent him a questioning glance.

"You're always over talking. Just let it be." He ended, allowing his eyes to slip closed. Sara felt that she should say volumes, as if to mark the occasion, but it would only make the situation slightly lack luster, so she stayed silent. "We'll talk in the morning. For now, I want you in my arms."

She slipped between his arms with a tiny smile on her face and his lips in her hair.


	6. Awakening

A/N: Yes, I just finished with biology stuff and my brain accidentally slipped that bit of science in there. Sad thing is, I don't even remember if that's correct, guess I'll know what I'll be getting.

Now, on another matter. People thought that the last chapter was it, and I'm thinking that maybe I should have kept it that way, but I wanna address issues at work, maybe make this into a series. Oh loyal followers, tell me your thoughts!

---

She would have liked to look back on the day with a smile, but she woke up alone, the bed cold next to her, the sheets relieved of the disarray their bodies had caused. Regardless of the hopeless feeling in the pit of her stomach she stretched and turned, finding her body felt sticky with dried sweat.

Part of her wanted to look for a note, something to tell her that he hadn't just left when he awoke, finding that he had done the inevitable, and that he hated her for it. Despair pooled in her mind as she pushed herself up with her palms and wondered how to go about beginning her day. She pondered making breakfast but found that she wasn't really hungry.

Sara couldn't remember when she had felt so plainly and simply abandoned. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she recalled all of the things that he had said to her the night before, all the kisses he'd rained upon her body, how welcoming his thrusts felt. And Sara let out a sob, somewhere deep inside knowing that once they had crossed the line they-

"Honey? What's wrong?" he asked from the doorway, two coffee mugs in hand, pants haphazardly buttoned at his waist. His face was a blatant mask of alarm, he thinking that she regretted what they had done and she thinking that he had left her.

"Oh god, Griss, I thought you left me." She said plainly, not really bothering to hide any of her emotions. It was funny, the way one thing could trigger a whole series of emotions to surface, like dominos; like signaling proteins in cells.

Grissom stood still, momentarily horrified that she would ever think he was capable about a thing. he toyed with the idea of becoming indignant, but the idea quickly vanished. This was Sara Sidle, and Sara Sidle had deep-seeded abandonment issues that he was sure he would never understand.

He moved to the bed and sat down beside her, placing the mugs on the bedside table. He was stunned with her nakedness, the sheer glory of her sitting amongst the sheets nude for him to look at. His lips came down and lovingly stroked her collarbone and she sighed shakily, letting out the last remnants of the sobbing fit she had been about to begin.

"I wouldn't... I couldn't leave without... I wouldn't." he said emphatically, being sure to look into her eyes as he said it. "I can't." And he grasped her hands for emphasis.

She wasn't sure that her heart could take everything that was being thrown at it -it was beating at such an erratic pace. The look in his eyes, the feeling of his hands...

"What's wrong?"

"I just need to, to catch my breath." Sara said, holding out a steadying hand in front of her. "You... Gil Grissom, have successfully rendered me... breathless."

"Soon to be speechless." He said mischievously and kissed her firmly on the lips, pushing her once more down to the mattress. She felt extremely light-headed but returned the kiss none-the-less.

When he was through, he let his lips just rest on hers for a moment, his mind committing the exact sensation to memory. His eyes fluttered open and he sat up, pulling her up with him, depositing a cup of coffee into her hand.

"How I wouldn't like to get woken up like that every morning." She said, meaning for it to be in jest.

Grissom gazed at her perplexed and took a sip of his coffee, cringing when he realized that in his haste to get back to the bedroom, he hadn't added enough sugar. "What makes you think you won't?" He asked in all seriousness and Sara paused, her lips halfway to her cup.

She had never been given that level of commitment by anyone before, even if it was slightly unclear and ambiguous.

"I-I...guess that answers my question then. The big obligatory, uncomfortable one that you have to ask sometimes." She smiled, content, but slightly off kilter.

"And what would that be?" He asked, making himself more comfortable on the bed.

"If that was a one time thing." She stated, raising her eyebrow and taking a long gulp from the hot cup. The caffeine seared through her veins and the heat penetrated her in a soothing way, forcing her to recline against the headboard of her bed, the sheet tangled messily around her waist.

"Oh, now you think you can throw me away that easily? Think again Sidle, you have so many things to learn." He said evilly, raking his eyes over her skin mock-lewdly. "And I'm sure you'll be a more than eager student."


	7. Too Little, Too Late

Dedication: To GeekLoveFan. I'm completely infatuated with her series 'Facades'. All of you GSR fans need to read it, it's positively amazing. Go, GO NOW!!! I can't freakin write because I can't. STOP. READING. Damn you GeekLoveFan! Damn you I say!!

Also... the line about confession was stolen. :::blushes embarrassedly::: I took it from Barenaked Ladies' 'Blame It On Me' off of their album Gordon. BUTTTT! In all fairness... I've spent HUNDREDS of dollars on their concerts (having been to twenty of them) so I feel I have SOME sort of right. ;-)

---

At first he had wondered if it was too little, too late. If his showing up at the park would anger her, if she would push him away, just when he was on the brink of giving in. It was incredibly difficult for him to ignore his feelings, and he was still unsure of as to why. But he was pleasantly surprised. She had responded welcomingly, eventually acquiescing by falling into bed.

So many years of loving what he thought was lost... Some many years spent wading in the middle, hoping something would come along and shove him in the right direction.

He could not deny himself the fact that waking up wrapped around her body was a like a gift. A gift that he opened with his lips and tongue and hands. He'd never felt so warm in his life; it was a warmth deep down in his bones that even the chill from her air conditioner could do away with.

He remembered, a short time ago, sitting next to her in the sandbox and feeling like a child, a child discovering the wonders of the girl he loved. At the time, he thought that maybe it was the way the wind ruffled her hair, the way the moon caught her eye and the way she looked up at it as if to say "thank you." He had truly been enchanted. Though, in reality, he had been enthralled with her since the day that she had raised her hand and told him that she thought that he was wrong. Since the day that they had gone out for coffee. Since the day that she had allowed him, once upon a time, to let his hand fall easily against her lower back as they strolled along the Charles, nothing more than teacher and student.

Perhaps Gil Grissom truly did believe in such a thing as a soul mate? He scoffed that off quickly, almost laughing at himself for thinking of such things. Soul mates. An improbability when held against rational science.

"Screw science." His right brain said. His right brain, the flippant and creative side sat lounging in a hammock, listening to Jimmy Buffet, smoking a cigarette slowly. "Screw science Gil, then go screw her again." In his head, it laughed at him and winked. Grissom was surprised when his left side didn't return the volley that his right brain had sent.

Interesting.

He could admit to himself that he was ready to be with her; be with her in the comfort of their own space, on their own time. He wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation at work however, and he didn't know how to bring it up in casual conversation.

So, when he got into work, he began to formulate a plan in his head.

True, he had left that evening after a rather long jaunt in Sara's shower (with the shower's owner) and had surely kissed her goodbye appropriately. He was quite sure that he was indeed proceeding with things properly.

So, that being realized, he stopped his frantic pacing for a moment to give himself a mental pat on the back. Imagine, Gil Grissom, finding himself comfortable in intimacy. He smiled just a bit; yes, yes he was proud of himself. He was especially proud of the fact that she had (unbeknownst to her) screamed out his name quite a few times while they soaped themselves that evening.

His head spun for a moment as he recounted the events of the past day. For a moment, he felt as if he had done something wrong but began to rationalize with himself. She had wanted it, he had wanted it... they had said that they...

He had forgotten that they had told each other that they lo-

Impossible. It hadn't happened. He couldn't have spoken the words to her. That would mean far too many things; things that he couldn't possibly wrap his mind around in the state he was in. But, he figured, since he did indeed love her (that word again)... that it was okay that he had told her so. Grissom just wasn't absolutely positive that telling her in the midst of... oh what was he to call it? In the midst of... of... coitus (there, that was a nice, safe, scientific word). He wasn't positive that spitting out something quite that monumental during coitus would be taken to heart.

So that would mean that he'd have to tell her over and over again. But would she believe him? He shrugged, alone in the presence of only his bugs and specimens. He'd just keep telling her until she believed him, that was the only real way to go about it, he rationalized.

He smiled to himself and allowed his body to calm, just a bit. That was a nice solution, just keep telling her that he loved her until-

But that didn't really solve the predicament about work... that he found himself in. So, in a fit of self-aimed rage, he began pacing again. Back and forth. Back and forth, his tarantula watching him interestedly. He peered back at the arachnid as if it could give him some sort of timeless answer. He arched a brow at the creature but it trotted away from the glass.

Grissom sighed and retreated behind his desk, plopping himself in his chair. A large hand came up to swipe over his face. He felt that he was in a great predicament, though he knew that he shouldn't be. Deep down, he knew things would probably work themselves out. That perhaps the first few days would be awkward, but that things would...

Aw, hell he was scared. Scared that she was going to come in and realize that-

No, no, he wasn't. He was... worried that he'd want her during-

In all actuality he was most concerned about the fact that he wasn't really concerned about anything. He was simply trying to come up with reasons to be agitated about the situation because he thought he had to be. He sighed again, heavily and sat back in his chair, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

Suddenly, the shrill ringing of his phone startled him out of his catatonia. He reached over, and before he checked the caller ID, he flipped the thing open, holding it to his ear. "Grissom." He panted out, dejectedly enough for the person on the other end of the line to feel it.

"Stop moping. Everything's fine. Everything's... perfect." A long sigh, a smile traveling back to him through the line. "Come hand out assignments." Sara said and ended the call.

If he had believed in God, he was sure that he would have had a religious experience right at that moment. Forgive me father but I've fallen in love and that's all I have for confession today.

He allowed a tiny smile to trail over his lips as he threw his glasses on his face, grabbed the assignment slips and walked briskly from his office. Oh yes, Gil Grissom truly felt like a redeemed man.


	8. Enter Catherine

A/N: Guess who DIDN'T get chosen for jury duty? But guess who did go to Cambridge and shop for XMas gifts... that'd be me. Yeah. So I'm happy, in a good mood, so I'm gonna write. Also, I'm watching the Will&Grace gag reel, and it's HILARIOUS. I wanna do humor... and be good at it. :-(

Reviewers: You're sooooo wonderful. Love you alllll so so much! Wish me luck for my seminar final tomorrow!!!

---

Grissom stalked into the break room, apprehensive but not unhappy. Finding his team already seated around the break room table, he began. "Okay." He brought his index finger up to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose and glanced at Sara. She wasn't paying attention to him, instead picking something off of the side of her coffee cup and cringing.

"Who's turn was it for the dishes this week." She muttered under her breath, but brought the mug to her lips nonetheless.

"We've got a 419, a DB out in-"

Catherine cut her supervisor off abruptly. "I call dibs. Sara and I are taking it." She shouted, bolting from her dear and snatching the paper from his outstretched hand. She grinned over at Sara who smiled back, finished her coffee, and placed her mug in the sink.

"Damn it!" Nick exclaimed, smacking his palm on the table for emphasis. "Cat, you really do have a Cat's reflexes." He commented in his Texas drawl. "So let me guess Griss." Nick continued, tapping his fingers on his lips dramatically. "Smash and grab?" Nick hated the easy cases and robberies were probably the easiest to solve, with the least amount of evidence to gather.

Grissom cocked his head at the man and smiled mockingly. "I was going to send you out on a missing person's but, if you wanted this smash and grab then by all means-"

"Done!" He snatched the missing person's leaflet out of Grissom's had and left the room briskly.

"We're off!" Catherine called over her shoulder from the hallway, Sara in tow.

Warrick still sat at the table, paper in hand. Grissom watched as Sara retreated down the hall and looked toward the younger man.

"Smash and grab?" Warrick inquired dejectedly, folding his paper and tossing it on the table.

"Another 419 actually." Grissom shrugged and smiled. Warrick laughed. "Yeah man. Looks like Nick jumped at the bait huh?" He said, grabbing the slip of paper from his supervisor.

"Looks like."

"I'll meet you at the Tahoe in five." Warrick said, staring at the paper as he disappeared from the room.

Grissom quickly walked to the door and called Warrick back. "Hey Warrick! Bring your galoshes!" He shouted down the corridor, causing the requisite number of interns to scatter like his fire ants.

He smiled to himself and set off to gather his things together.

Meanwhile, Catherine and Sara were en route to their case.

"What?"

"'What', what?"

"You keep looking at me." Sara said defensively, staring Catherine down as she maneuvered the vehicle to the crime scene.

"I can't say for sure right now but..." Cath trailed off, looking both ways at an intersection, grinning.

"But what?" Sara asked inquisitively raising both of her eyebrows in question, also checking both sides of the intersection for oncoming traffic out of habit.

"You got laaaaaaaid." Catherine said with a large amount of satisfaction, her grin spreading wider across her face.

"Excuse me?!" Sara responded, her voice squeaking almost choking on her own spit. She sucked in a quick breath and looked at her companion indignantly. "What?!" She asked once more.

"Sara Sidle, you got laid!" She exclaimed giddily, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. Before Sara could respond, then arrived at the crime scene and Catherine shoved the car into bar quickly, leaping from the SUV, popping the trunk to retrieve her kit. Sara sat for a moment and composed herself. She allowed her eyes to slip closed for a moment and recalled the long moments she had spent in the shower earlier with-

No! Lewd thoughts on the job were very, very bad and-

"Chop, chop!" Catherine appeared at the window and tapped on the glass with the antennae of her two-way radio.

Sara rolled her eyes at the woman and nodded, also moving to hop from the vehicle. She retrieved her kit as well and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She walked out into the cool of the night, Catherine falling in step behind her.

"Damn!" Cath exclaimed. "You're limping. What the hell did you do?" She commanded, eyes sparkling. She was having far too much fun at Sara's expense. Sara blushed and turned away, walking ahead briskly, attempting to get away from her fellow CSI. Catherine studied her as she walked away.

Her eyes lit up. "THREE TIMES!?" She screeched, hurrying to catch up with Sara. Sara stopped and her companion nearly crashed into her.

"What, do you have like a sixth sense?" Sara ground out, cheeks deep crimson.

"It's eerie, isn't it?" Cath whispered, moving in closer as if she were telling a secret.

"Mmm." Sara responded, prematurely ending the conversation. "We'll talk later."

"You'd better believe we will." Catherine replied haughtily and made her way over to the officer on duty.

They spent the next few hours gathering and analyzing evidence. By the time they had finished, Sara glanced at her watch, noticed that it was nearing four A.M. and told Catherine so. The other woman sighed and wrapped up her notes, packing away her kit, following Sara back to the SUV.

"Feel like food?" Catherine asked, once behind the wheel. Sara nodded slowly, hoping that the woman had forgotten what they had been discussing earlier, though Sara didn't feel it likely. Catherine hummed as she drove, not once bringing up the fact that Sara had had quiet a lot of sex the day before.

They pulled up to their "usual" all-night diner and went in, still having said nothing since entering the car. They took a booth near the back and ordered. Sara's fingers worriedly tapped across the table as she waited for her food. She looked up at Catherine quickly, at regular intervals, only to find the woman staring at her. She was sure that Catherine was waiting for her to bring it up again, to be polite... or... something. But she wasn't going to. She was resolved not to bring it up unless the other woman did.

Just as their food came, Catherine spoke up. "So you're not going to tell me about the sex, are you?" She asked, pouring dressing over her salad and taking a bite. Sara didn't respond, instead choosing to take a bite of her own salad, thinking that if she were chewing, she could refrain from responding.

"You know, you were smiling while you were processing that scene. Anything particularly funny about casting footprints?" Catherine asked, taking a stab of the salad on the plate in front of her.

Sara did the same and chewed it thoughtfully. "Who wears heels to dump a body... really?" Sara replied flippantly and took a sip of her ice water.

"Ah, no, no, no changing the subject. You might be the... physics person on the team..." Sara gave her a quizzically amused look. "...or whatever... but I'm the people person. I'll get it out of you eventually... you might as well save yourself the trouble and tell me now."

"Ahhh, now I see!" Sara said, settling back into the booth, crossing her arms over her chest, smiling. "Your sixth sense feeds off non-sensical gossip."

"I don't gossip. I willfully inform." Catherine glared at her but pressed on. "A smiling Sara Sidle. Who's behind that smile?" She was giddy with anticipation, not that she didn't already have a hunch who had really caused Sara to be quite so happy. She just wanted to hear the woman say it.

Sara cleared her throat, pursed her lips and looked out the window. "We, uh." She stopped briefly looking Catherine in the eye, and staring back out onto the street. It had been exactly twenty-four hours before that he had sat himself next to her on the faded wood of the sandbox and had sought her soul.

"We haven't discussed, uh..." She cleared her throat again staring at Catherine head on. "'Divulging' any information about that yet." When she said divulging, she made quote marks with her fingers and then dropped her hands into her lap.

"It is!" Catherine breathed astonished. She smiled despite her irrational surprise at her own cunning.

"Is what?"

"Gil, Gil's the one who plastered that smile on your face!"

Sara's eyes widened, and she looked out the window, trying incredibly hard to repress the smile that was forcing her lips to twitch.

"Wow." Catherine also settled back against the booth and crossed her arms as well. "Wow." She muttered shaking her head and smiling.

"What?"

"Can't believe he finally pulled his head out of his ass and realized what's good for him." Catherine shrugged and continued. "This could mean sooooo many things. Lower blood pressure, better respiration... Do you have any idea how many calories sex burns?"

Sara's eyes nearly popped out of her head at Catherine's last comment. "I could guess." She said dryly.

"So does this mean, I mean are you and he...?"

"I, we, I, I don't know. I'm afraid he'll realize what he did and just... and if it got out... I mean, you figured it out on your own, so..."

"So..." Catherine prompted.

"So, others will eventually too." At the look Catherine gave her, Sara was quick to continue. "Not to say you'd tell anyone. I'm just saying that you're not the only one who can read people."

"Yeah." Catherine piped up and took a cleansing gulp of her own ice water. "But we're also talking about people at the lab who know you two. Like really know you. That pretty much limits it to the team." Catherine placed her elbows on the table and began to gesture with her hands. "See where I'm going with this?"

"Cath, I don't even know if this is anything... well, it is, but I don't know if- I don't know where he stands now. He's had twenty-four hours to process the fact that we slept together. And we all know Griss is unpredictable."

"Made love, that is to say." Catherine cut in once more ribbing her. "In his bed." Catherine continued, smirking evilly, but reevaluated her statement when Sara raised a brow at her. "Your bed." She reinforced.

"Jesus Catherine, if you wanna get technical."

She held up a finger to keep Sara from speaking another word. "AND in your shower." She stated smugly, raising her eyebrows.

"That... is spooky."

"It's a gift." Catherine winked at her and they ate in silence again for a moment. "Where was I? ... Oh! Right!" She held up her fork to emphasize her next words.

"Just talk to him, that's all, just talk it through. And believe me, if he's willing to listen, you have something there, because not many of them are willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."


	9. Liberated

'If I'm again beside your body, don't tell me where it's been. It's cruel, unusual punishment to kiss fingerprinted skin.' "The Wrong Man Was Convicted"Barenaked Ladies

Thanks GeekLoveFan for the love. :-D And the loyal reviewers! Come baaaaack!

---

"Guess who's not sleeping tonight." Warrick muttered under his breath, upset with himself for being such a slave to the evidence. Like Sara, he had become infatuated with finding a means to an end.

Grissom overheard his comment and snorted. "You know how much dayshift hates to have us crawling around on their time." Grissom bagged a piece of evidence and studied it through the clear plastic.

"Yeah well, they can bitch us out all they want, but we're the reason the lab gets all this federal funding." Warrick stated matter-of-factly, bagging his own piece of evidence and labeling it accordingly. "They'd be using magnifying lenses and playing hunches without us. Regular bunch of Sherlocks and Watsons."

"That's where you're wrong." Grissom stated, cracking his back, surveying the scene they had taken five hours to process. "Sherlock and company had intuition and relative passion. Ecklie does it for the money, not for the thrill." He smirked at Warrick who nodded in agreement, and bent to pack up his kit. "I think we're done here."

Once back at the office, Grissom set about tying off the loose ends of some important paperwork. However, in his own opinion, it couldn't be **less** important. He had signed on the dotted line one too many times and threw down the file to take a break. He was about to get a cup of coffee when Catherine entered his office... without knocking.

"Gil, I thought you should know. You are all over her."

Grissom quickly snapped the glasses from his face. "Excuse me Catherine?"

"Gil, you're all over her. Everywhere. And damn, what did you do to the girl!? She's limping. Didn't know you had it in you." Catherine said in jest as she flopped down into his visitor's chair.

"Who?" Grissom was confused for a moment and then the realization set in. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He lied, indignant, and picked up the file he had just thrown down, forgetting the coffee that he had previously craved. Go away, go away, he silently urged her, allowing his eyes to flit over the manila to see if his silent mantra had unsettled her at all.

It hadn't.

Catherine chuckled and tossed her hair a bit, sprawled in the chair in front of him, amused. "That's a lie and the both of us know it." She smiled sickeningly sweet at him and began to examine her cuticles. "So, you gonna divulge this to the team or do they have to find out like I did?"

"And how **exactly** did you find out?" Grissom asked, licking his lips and settling back into his chair authoritatively. He had thought for a moment that Sara had told her, possibly in a moment of excitement, but he banished the thought. She was surely as cautious as he was.

"Aside from the limping and the idiotic smile she had plastered on her face all day..." Catherine emphasized the word idiotic; that almost made Grissom smirk. Almost. "Practically had 'Gil Grissom was here' stamped across her forehead."

Grissom raised his brow just about as high as it would go and stared at her.

"Woman's intuition." Catherine shrugged. Gil knew her well enough to know that she was telling the truth. She could read people like a book, easily and smoothly. It was a gift, he would admit, one that no one could learn or culture. Catherine could look at a person and know just what was going on. He admired that about her.

"Your talent." He stated, softening, twirling the pen on his desk, embarrassed to take the conversation any further, though he wanted to.

"I suppose." Catherine replied smirking. "So, seriously, a game plan Gil. You have to have thought of one by now. I mean, you are, you know, **you**." Catherine waited for a response but when she got none, she became worried. "Well?"

He sucked in a breath and cringed as he let it out. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and-"

"Here we go... too old? Insubordination thing? Not good enough for her? Unsure how to go about it?"

Grissom glared at her. "None of those things specifically." He said flatly, brushing off her comments with a flip of his hand. "But if it was anything, most likely the latter." He replied, finally succumbing to Catherine's questioning. Finally, an answer she could work with.

"Honestly... nevermind. I just, it's just, see, nevermind." Grissom sputtered, wanting to release everything that was flying about his brain but finding it reasonably difficult to do so. It had always been for him, and Catherine understood. She always did. It often occurred that she was there to counterbalance him, when his nerves got the better of him; when he didn't know how to act like a human being.

"I'm most certainly not wanting to get in the middle of this, but I've gotta say, she's trying to reach out to you and you're keeping that brick wall up, and even after the sex... the mindblowing sex it would seem-" She said this and he blushed, just a bit, and his eyes hit a particularly interesting spot on the ceiling and studied it. "You can't even let it down. Gil, seriously, before you lose her again, and what would seem to be for the last time, because no one can just take away love once it's been given and then… walk away... you have to work this out. The end justifies the means, and the end in this case is a normal life. A normal life you wish you had."

"A normal life, I don't think it would quite qualify as that." Grissom mentioned flippantly, hoping to pull Catherine out of the unsettling conversation, but his attempt to derail her failed.

"Well Gil, she's as normal as you're gonna get." She said, the statement coming off as flippant, but hitting him with the impact of a gunshot. Sara **was** as close to normal as he would get, which was extraordinary because she wasn't at all... wasn't nearly what one would consider normal. And that's what he liked about her. He smiled, a bit, and for once Catherine didn't catch it.

"Suppose the young, handsome prince on a trusty steed comes to town and sweeps her off of her feet..." Grissom speculated, completely serious, only using clichéd terms to mask the uncertainty he felt.

"Earth to you... You're. It." Cath allowed her eyes to sweep over him for a moment and chuckled. "Though I'm pretty sure she found your brain a tad more enticing that your, uh, handsome physique."

Grissom glared at her again. "And… can't exactly see you on a horse... does she like horseback riders?" She asked, pretending to be concerned. He pursed his lips at her, attempting to look authoritatively, but she only grinned and waggled her eyebrows at him.

"Or princes?"

"Was there even a point to this conversation? Or were you just using this rambling diatribe to illustrate the fact that I'm neither young nor lithe?"

"Me? No, no no no." Catherine sighed and worked the kinks out of her neck, then continued. "We talked, about the, the **thing**. Is that more suiting? Or do you want me to refer to it as the tryst?" She asked, wondering herself if she was serious. "Anyway, we discussed it over dinner. She didn't want to give anything away, so you don't have to worry. She's not some giddy teenager Gil, she's a woman who wonders if the love of her life is going to stick around for the after party."

"Depends, is it black tie?" Grissom asked, desperately wishing he could truly invest himself in the conversation taking place.

"See, here's the part in the conversation where I tell you to shut the hell up... Shut the hell up. She's serious about this Gil, or at least, she wants to be. As sure as you are that you won't leave her, it nags her brain too. You two have the same fears. It's something that you have to work through."

He shrugged. "It's just hard to believe, and makes me wonder what exactly it is that she sees... in me... anywhere..." He trailed off, truly wondering what it was about him that captivated her so.

"Who really knows though, right?" She asked, her voice more excited that she knew she should feel. "It's all about the feelings Gil. In this case, you gotta let the feelings dictate the behavior." Catherine mentally patted herself on the back for producing such a good line. "I think that would probably work in this case. But, as much as I'd love to sit around and talk you out of your ass all night, I have evidence to drop off and a daughter to pick up."

She stood from the chair, leaving Grissom to his thoughts.

She did have a point, he thought. He had never truly allowed his emotions to take any particularly large risk, with the exception of the previous day. He was surprised to find just how liberating it felt.


	10. Challenge

"Sara!" Grissom called to her as she passed by his office, several evidence bags in hand. She was donning a pair of standard issue cover alls and had grease smears all over her face. She stopped abruptly when he called and backtracked to his open door.

"Yeah?" She asked, glancing down at herself, amused at how strange she must have looked. "What's up?" She looked expectant, her hair sticking out from several different random places, a large piece hanging down into her eyes.

He looked at her oddly, backtracking in his mind for a moment, holding off on what he had wanted to discuss with her. "Catherine's notes didn't mention any requisitioned vehicle."

"Oh!" She said, smiling. "Nicky wanted a bit of help, he's not good with uh, heavy machinery, or so he says." She held up the evidence bags so he could see what she was carrying and then let them fall to her sides. "That it?" Sara was disappointed that he had only called her to discuss evidence.

"Uh, no. We should discuss..."

"Yeah..." She trailed off as well, biting her bottom lip, hoping to god that he wasn't going to retract what he had said to her in bed earlier.

"My place? After shift?" Grissom asked, allowing his eyes to flit from hers for an instant, still nervous. He was angry with himself for being so at odds with his own emotions; with his own brain. Grissom was upset with himself for being so insecure.

"Sure." She piped up, disappearing from his doorway, once again, leaving him in solitude. Gil Grissom was beginning to think that all this solitude was just too much.

Sara's head appeared back in his doorway seconds later. "But you do know shift ended ten minutes ago." She winked and disappeared once more. He smiled, feeling as if another temporary weight was lifted off of his shoulders.

Moments later, Grissom had gathered his things, checked the cases to make sure everything was going to plan. He said good morning to Veronica, the receptionist, on his way out of the lab, and made his way to his Denali with a small spring in his step.

"Someone's in a good mood." He heard someone call out behind him. He smiled and stopped for a second. He spun around, briefcase in hand. Sara stood behind him, hands on her hips, grinning.

"Well, I had an excellent evening the other night."

"Oh, did you now?" She played along, voice coy.

"Yes, with a wonderful woman."

"Is that so?" Sara asked, tilting her head and laughing, moving a few steps closer to him. She stopped advancing when she was a yard away from him, close enough to really see what was in his eyes. "Listen to you, waxing all poetic. Have you gone soft, Gil Grissom?" She asked, moving around as if to examine him for evidence.

He chuckled. "If it's anyone's fault, it's hers." He put up his unoccupied hand to fend off her eyes.

"Blame it on the woman." She said, mock indignantly, nodding at him. They stood in silence for a moment, just studying each other. The cool breeze of the early morning unsettled her hair, causing it to rise in a flurry around her softly smiling face.

Grissom sighed, willing his body to stay put, to hold off from taking her into his arms. "I need to kiss you." He said bluntly, catching her severely off guard. She stared at him, mouth agape, willing her mind to catch up. The smile disappeared completely, totally replaced by shock.

"I'm sorry." He began, but was abruptly cut off.

"Don't be sorry. It's just... still, hearing you say that catches me off guard. In a fabulous way!" She stated, easing him a bit. "I want you to kiss me. But not here. And not until we talk."

He smiled at her. She was all business now, and he was sure it had something to do with the insecurity she was feeling about the eventual future about the two of them together. "Dare I say, that you, Sara Sidle, are a tease?"

"We'll see." She said, ducking her head, walking to her car. "Give me a half an hour!" She called to him, one leg in her Denali, the rest of her body hanging out.

He didn't give her a response, but stood there, outside of his own vehicle and watched as she drove away. He could feel the butterflies jump to his stomach, flitting around in a flurry, and he smiled. Anticipation made him feel so alive.

On the way back to his townhouse, he pondered. For one, he wondered if he should have some sort of elaborate set up for her upon her arrival. He dismissed the thought; it wouldn't impress her. Sara would surely be more interested in the natural state of things, of his conditions as he had left them. He felt at ease knowing that he hadn't had to glorify himself in order for her to soften and share her heart with him.

He wondered... he wondered if any man had taken the time to truly wine and dine her. To make sure that she felt appreciated and special. Had taken the time to find the few spots on her body that made her moan. Had enough thought to make an extra cup of coffee for her in the morning as he had done...

He wondered, had anyone ever truly loved Sara Sidle? Unconditionally as he did? Had anyone ever seen into her heart with care and discretion, making sure to nurture rather than scrutinize? Had Sara ever had that luxury?

He thought about raw emotion, pondering whether Sara had ever truly let go, if the past day had been hindered by her insecurities.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He was jumping to too many conclusions.

Grissom pulled into his designated parking spot, pulled the briefcase from the passenger seat and opened the door. He locked the car and made his way to the front door, unlocking it, entering his house. He paused for a moment once inside and surveyed the darkened surroundings.

He tossed his briefcase in the vicinity of the coffee table, it landing with a dull thunk on the floor due to his miscalculation. He didn't bother to pick it up, opting instead, to walk to his bedroom in the dark and rid himself of his work shirt, replacing it with a light green t-shirt. He smoothed the shirt over his frame and walked into the bathroom to check his appearance and padded to the kitchen after kicking off his shoes.

He reached into the fridge for a water but held back, he'd wait until Sara arrived. Perhaps offer her some wine? Or would wine seem too cliché, too planned? Hell, he wanted a glass of wine, it would relax him.

He turned and opened a cabinet, staring down at the vintage selection in front of him. Grissom supposed it didn't matter which bottle he chose, they had all sat there for so long, no occasion to drink them. He blindly reached in and pulled one out. 93 Amarone. He set it down on the counter, to sit in wait for Sara.

Grissom wandered about his house as if it were foreign territory to him. He padded through the halls, not really seeing anything, not really sensing anything at all. His body was poised and ready; he was waiting.

Exactly seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later there was soft rap at the door. Grissom paused outside the door, one hand on the thin wood, one hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath, and slowly pulled the door open.

"Hey!" She said brightly, more full of vigor than he had expected her to be. Yes, he had expected her to be something; cautious perhaps. Maybe shy. He hadn't anticipated an enthusiastic Sara Sidle welcoming herself into his house. He stood by the door for a moment as she moved into his living room and stood.

"It looks different in the dark." She said matter of factly, not really to him, nor to herself, perhaps saying it to the walls of his home. She turned back, hair flaying over her shoulder as she grinned at him, and he smiled shyly back, once again feeling like he had in his adolescence.

She turned back around, facing away from him, and set about investigating her surroundings, finally getting the chance to examine the specimens on the walls, the books on the shelves, the colors, the sounds. She sighed as she let her fingers trail over titles, just as he had done to her literary collection. She grinned when she fell upon a particular butterfly that enlivened her senses.

She walked from place to place slowly, not asking him to join her, nor denying him. But he stayed back, leaning against the partition between the hallway and the living area... watching her. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, his legs crossed, his face relaxed and intrigued.

He smiled as her fingers trailed over the glass casing of one of his specimens.

He walked toward her slowly, cautiously, allowing her to know that he was approaching. He stood behind her as she examined a Death's Head Moth, tilting her head from side to side, as if to dissect it's secret. She smiled after a bit and turned her head a fraction of an inch toward him. "This is my favorite I think." Sara said quietly, tilting her head in the direction of the white and gray specimen.

"Looks frightening, but it really isn't, is it?" She asked him for confirmation, not really know much about moths or butterflies. He nodded, looking from her to the bug and back to her.

"I know we haven't talked but-"

"Kiss me Griss." She ordered, grinning so wide that she was sure her cheeks would be sore in the morning. His lips descended on her with a ferocity that she had yet to experience from him. It took her a moment to balance herself against the wall with her hands, but then he assaulted her neck and she was lost.

"We-uh, oh shit, we have to talk Griss." She giggled as the rough hair of his beard scratched its way down her collarbone.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." He punctuated each word with a kiss. He stood back up, in front of her and nearly wavered. He felt so incredibly dizzy. Perhaps, he thought, he was letting go too fast.

Then he realized he didn't care, dismissed her argument and kissed her again, softer this time. His teeth took her bottom lips between them and nibbled gently, smoothing them over with his tongue so slowly that she was sure he wasn't moving at all. Sara's hands, though weak from lack of oxygen, reached up to push at Grissom's shoulders as her mouth formed a small smile.

"We, we, have to talk." She choked out, not wanting to stop. Her hands which were pushing against him wished to pull him tightly to her, rid him of his shirt and-

"We can talk with our bodies." He said, releasing his lips from her skin and waggling his eyebrows lewdly at her.

Sara shoved him forcefully, and began laughing loudly. She nearly doubled over, and began sucking in hasty breaths, short bursts of laughter cutting off her supply of air. "That's just about the worst line I've ever heard."

Grissom smiled proudly and took a mock bow, pulling her closely to him. She hummed low in her throat and allowed her eyes to slip closed. Her nose was assaulted with his soft smell, and at the scent she dug her nose into his neck, her stomach turning violently at finally being allowed to be so close to him. She sighed again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, actually savoring everything that assaulted her senses.

"So talk." He said to her ear, voice low and gravelly.

"Catherine knows." She said, not really caring, the admission seeming to come so much easier in his arms. He rocked her to and fro and before she knew it they were slowly dancing around his living room.

"Mm, I know. She spoke to me." He said, pulling back to look in her eyes and smile. He knew she would be startled by his nonchalance.

"And...?" Sara was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She stopped moving, but the smile was reluctant to disappear from her face. They stood there for a moment while he formulated his answer.

"And... she's Catherine." He shrugged, as if it answered everything.

"Huh... and the rest of the world?"

"The rest of the world will find out when they find out. I don't plan on making a grand declaration." Grissom said, Sara's smile faltering a tiny bit, but she regained it when she reasoned that it was only logical. Then, much to her surprise, Grissom leaned into her ear, licked the shell and whispered: "Yet."

Her smile fell to half-mast and she pulled back to look at him. "And all of a sudden we're in a relationship." She stated rather than asked, her voice holding shards of anger. She stared him down, waiting for his reaction.

"I don't know what a relationship is, Sara." He admitted, still moving her around the living room to the phantom music. He didn't bother explaining anymore because there wasn't much more to explain.

She smiled at his admission and was happy that he didn't attempt to rationalize or justify his answer. She understood just fine.

"But you wanna try this thing with me. And you're sure about it." She said, testing the waters once more, hoping that when she touched down that the water would finally be solid ice. In her head, Sara was lacing up her skates, ready to attempt some triple axels.

"More than try it... So many things Sara..." He whispered, apparently to the music that was playing in his head.

"So many things?" She asked, a bit too loud for the conversation.

He sighed and slowly his movement. He didn't stop though, just slowly down enough to gather his thoughts about him.

"Sara, I've never been in this deep, this far, with anyone. That is to say... how can I... Ah, I was engaged once, a long time ago." This statement, for some reason didn't shock Sara, so she kept her head to his chest and listened. "I'm sure I thought she was wonderful at the time... but then, as with most fledgling relationships, she found something in me that she didn't take well to, and the foundation crumbled underneath us. I was so infatuated with her but... it's just... I've never felt this nervous, this excited, this scared and this... this... much, about anything-anyone, and it's wonderful and scary and profound that at forty-eight I can... it's profound. You're profound." He ended on a whisper.

"It's amazing that another man, a man smarter than me, a man-"

He was cut off abruptly by her warm lips. They landed upon his bottom lip and suckled and he groaned, moving his right hand from her upper back to her ass.

"Wherever you were going with that... there isn't anyone smarter than you." She winked at him, and kissed him fully, taking his tongue deeply into her mouth, breathing in deeply as she did so, she cool air irritating her. She squirmed in his embrace as she fitted her arms around him more securely and they resumed their kiss.

Upon breaking apart, his hand helped her to rest her head gently upon his shoulder. "Sara, can I... may I speak freely for a moment?"

She looked up at him quizzically, with a bit of humor. As if he had to ask. She smiles and sighed out a laugh, replacing her head on his shoulder.

"And don't laugh..." Grissom thought for a moment, wondered if he should divulge what he was thinking. "I just thought it would be easier to, quantify love. To know when it was real, staring you in the face. Well, I never really believed in it, since it's just a series of chemicals setting off rapid signals in the brain... but I couldn't connect that to the butterflies in my stomach, for lack of a better explanation... and I didn't seem to know why my body responded to you the way it did... not to mention the fact that you kept me up so many nights, my mind wondering what your skin would feel like against mine... and rationalizing with science just-"

"You're worse than I am, Griss!" Sara said quietly, jarring him from his ranting. She knew what he was trying to say, there was no need to go any further. He scratched his hand across his beard, nodded and shut up.

"Never felt this way about anyone before is what you're trying to say." She said lightly, taking the lead for a moment smoothing her hands up his back.

"For lack of more poetic words, yes. Though I can't seem to string together a coherent sentence with you in my arms so..."

"Me either." She said, whispered, and stopped moving. He stopped as well, hearing her admission.

"But you have so much to do Sara, so many people to meet, and-"

"So do you. Age is just a number Gil." She said loudly, spreading her arms in admonishment. Then she shook her head, hair falling into her face. "Let's live like we're seventeen Griss. Let's live like there's nothing stopping us; no supervisors, no occupations, just no limits. Can't you live for once like you... mean it?"

She paused for a moment and looked at him. "I need you to slap me right now. My brain is officially complete mush, I've resorted to melodrama." She huffed a laugh, avoiding meeting his eyes. She'd also used his first name and felt slightly strange about it. She figured she'd just have to get used to it.

He looked to the ceiling quickly, and then back down at Sara, still standing in the ring of his arms. "Well, who's to say I don't have the sex drive of a seventeen year old?"

"Prove it." She challenged with a tip of her chin and steely eyes.


	11. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Chapter is very much R here. So watch it. I edited it to be appropriate so, yeah.**

Dedication: This is going out to... :::takes a deep breath::: brainfear, smrozier, geeklovefan, leddy, Laura Katherine, Moggie, XxBandGeekxX. All of the reviews keep me going.

**Go read Joan Power's 'No Man Is An Island' and Laura Katherine's 'The Great Escape'. They're both fantastic pieces of fiction. GO NOW!**

Joan, doll, you keep me going. :-D And Lauren... what can I say?

Guess what!? Finals are over! A month of FREEDOM!!! Mahahah, I'm so freakin happy. Also, this chapter might be slightly choppy, as I'm watching Aqua Teen while attempting to write this... it's proving to be increasingly difficult.

**Oh, also, so sorry about the title of thi**s **chapter. :::bites lip::: I'm a very, very bad girl. :::tear:::**

---

Sara moved away from him quickly. Backing up towards his kitchen. She smiled as she did so her body moving slowly away from his.

Grissom's eyes were dark as she backed away from him. His poised and ready, and he began stalking after her.

Something inside of her bubbled up, mirth coming in the form of a startled laugh as he darted towards her, quicker than she had expected him to be able to move. "Ah!" She cried out, as he nearly caught her, but she darted out of his reach, into a darkened room.

"Where am I?" She asked aloud to darkness. Her hands shot out in front of her as she listened for Grissom's approach. She squinted in the darkness, attempting to make out any certain shape that she could identify, but she saw nothing. Her feet backpedaled into something warm and solid.

Again, she yelped, as his hands clasped themselves around her stomach. Sara sighed and smiled as his rough fingers sought out the smooth skin of her midriff. "Where am I?" She whispered to him, turning her head slightly so that her breath just fell upon his neck.

"Miss Sidle, meet, my children." His voice was full of mirth as well, as he said it. She stood stock still in his arms, hoping that he wasn't talking about what she thought he was talking about. Grissom sighed in her ear and laughed, just a bit, hugging her tightly, swaying with her a bit, just as he had done earlier.

"You have... a whole room." She stated shakily.

He smiled, reached out with his lips and toyed with her ear. "It's a big townhouse." Grissom murmured happily into her ear. His lips continued downwards, assaulting her neck slowly, biting and licking, creating what she was sure would be impressions there.

"Hmm. That it is." Was all she could string together. Allowing her head to loll to the side, she fell back against him, allowing his body to take her weight and support her.

"Wait!" She stopped, laughing. "That's, Griss, that's creepy!" She interjected, seeing how much it would take for her body to fully succumb to his touch.

"I would have gone with enigmatic... but, I suppose creepy will suffice for now."

His hands slipped down the front of her slacks, smoothing over the fabric gently, massaging the front of her thighs as his lips continued to work over her neck. Her breathing was incredibly labored, her neck being an incredibly sensitive spot. If he had decided to touch her then, he would have found her unbearably wet, but his hands were otherwise occupied.

It seemed if he was skating over her body purposely, teasing her as she had teased him in the parking lot a mere hour before. Her lips spread in a grin as she caught on to what he was doing, how he was awakening her senses, and she gave over.

"Griss..." She drew out, finding it faintly surprising that her voice hadn't taken that tone before. Her arms slid up to cover his, neither guiding him, nor stopping him, just hanging on for the ride. Grissom smiled against her skin, no longer kissing, just breathing against her, breathing her in.

For some reason, he found it incredibly erotic, having her hands on top of his as they skated down her body. "Tell me what you want, Sara." He said, words intense in her ear, making her close her eyes, open them, and reacquaint herself with the darkness.

"Want to, want to love you Griss." She ground out, feeling wonderful for voicing her real thoughts. She spun around in his arms, feeling more feral than she was sure she'd ever felt. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and moved into suck the flesh of his lips into his mouth, for a fraction of a second. "So. Hard." Sara panted out, flying high on the wave of endorphins rushing to her head.

"God." He panted out, equally as enthused. His ears, which were at the moment ringing, couldn't quite catalogue all of her sighs and pants fast enough. "Say it again." He pushed on, walking her backwards to the one unoccupied wall.

Sara's back pressed harshly against the hard surface, Grissom's warm body covering her completely, from head to hip. Her lips reached out to capture his but he glanced away.

"Not yet, honey." He toyed, licking his lips, really wanting nothing more than to kiss her until the carbon dioxide had built to a dangerous level in her lungs. He kissed her nose, watching as a plethora of emotions played over her face.

He was sure that he heard her whimper, low and erotic in her throat. He ignored it, instead allowing his fingers to skim over the skin of her cheekbones, the dip in her neck, the bones in her hand. Her breathing slowed as she allowed herself to enjoy the simple sensations that his touch produced.

"Relax." He stated, in his normal voice, almost seeming to order her as he did so.

"This is unbelievable..." Sara spoke, seeming to concentrate on every nerve ending that was being stimulated. She licked her lips when Grissom massaged the skin of her palm. He brought it to his lips and kissed her there.

His eyes pinned hers, just as she was pinned to the wall. "What's gonna happen when you tire of me, Sara Sidle?" He asked, his fears finally surfacing, piercing the surface of his passionate demeanor.

Sara stared back at him, almost in shock. She snapped out of it quickly enough, clenching the palm that he was holding, his hand captured in hers. "Then, well, I take a nap." She said completely serious.

Grissom's lips remained open, amused and elated, as he stared back at her, flush against the wall. "To sleep perchance to dream?" Grissom asked, not quite sure how to proceed after her statement.

"Dreaming now." Sara challenged, tilting his chin out at him. He licked his lips, as he would if he were posing a particularly hard question and nodded at her in approval.

Pressing his lips to her hard, he allowed his hands to grasp upon her slender neck, feeling the blood pulse under her flesh. He felt her living under him, her body carrying on its function as it normally would. It refreshed him, to know that she was the same person then as she was before she had ever entered his arms.

A tentative hand stole down the front of her body, parting her legs slowly, wondering if the pace he had set was too hasty. His questions were answered when her hips bucked towards his digits and he pressed down over the fabric, the warmth from the juncture of her thighs permeating the space between them.

"This is still scary for me." Sara rasped out, quickly, not certain if she should have said anything in the first place. "Is that okay?" Her eyes searched his for a moment.

"Still frightens me too." His nose nudged at her cheekbone, breathing in the scent of her hair. She smelled of work and anticipation.

"Good."

"Good?" He asked, allowing his nose to nudge her again.

"Mmm, good. Same page." She trailed her lips over a bearded cheek and continued. "Which is surprising because we haven't been in the same book, no, the same genre... for years." Her voice was soft with amusement. Grissom too found her metaphor amusing.

"What's say we turn a new page then?" He quirked a brow at her, capturing her lips before she could comment on the ridiculousness of his comment.

Before she knew it, she felt a shift in the fabric of her slacks, the button having been slipped through the hole by Grissom's deft fingers. She bit down on her lip with a smile as his fingers slid the zipper of her slacks down, slowly, oh so slowly.

His eyes passed over her face as he moved to rid her of her pants. It was in his nature to catalogue the reactions of people he came into contact with, and Sara was no different. He noted the clenching of her teeth as he pressed into her hips, the long sigh she emitted as his nails raked over her skin.

Her hands, which were once idle, lifted to skim over his cheek, feeling the wonder of his hair on her sensitive fingertips. His erection was pressed into her harshly, but he did nothing to relieve himself of the pressure there. Instead, he glanced down at the khaki fabric that was pooled around her feet and noticed the hue of her panties. "Pink?" He was intrigued by the femininity of the color and how it highlighted the freckles that were spattered over her hip.

She didn't respond, instead choosing to slip her fingers under the collar of his shirt, teasing him slowly, as he was doing to her. She, at last, reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, momentarily removing his hands from her skin. His hands did the same, divesting her of her shirt as she stood against his wall, minimal light being shed upon her skin.

Her nails immediately attacked the smooth skin of his chest, relishing the feeling of the short hairs and warm flesh there. Her head dipped in, kissing over his collarbone. Her lips skated over the bone there, sucked, licked, bit. She groaned before he did, lightheaded at the complete sensation of his flesh between her teeth; how vulnerable he was before her, spread like a banquet. If she had chosen to, she could have hurt him, drawn blood.

But she didn't. Instead, she chose to worship it. To love it with an instrument of her own body.

Grissom's palms came up to grip the skin of her shoulders, finding the heat there much more severe than the heat at her hips. He looked up at her. "So soft, honey." He voice was disbelieving and reverent, as he bent down to kiss the hollow between her collarbone and her shoulder.

Sara smiled when she leaned into his neck, allowing Grissom to slip a scrap of fabric from her skin. The sensations felt so coordinated, yet so new, the luster shining so brightly that it nearly blinded her. Sara had a feeling that the sensation of him touching her would always be bold and new, having waited for it for so long.

Grissom captured her lips delicately, merely glancing over them, forbidding himself to indulge in their sanctuary for a few moments. When he did, his tongue swept over hers possessively, so much so that he opened his eyes to make sure that she knew that she was his.

Her flesh puckered as her body flushed with complete arousal, his tongue disengaging itself from hers to trail over her neck, her chest.

She knew where he was headed and grasped his shoulders. "Griss, you're gonna kill your knees."

"Don't care." He barked.. Sara bit down on her lip, laughing. It felt wonderful, and so incredibly new that she couldn't actually equate the feeling with some previous known sensation.

He hummed as he toiled, the vibrations sending shockwaves up her spine, amazed that she was feeling such emotions, such sensations from a doing such a thing to her. She'd never felt that way before, never been so anticipatory from someone's mouth.

Grissom's thumbs stroked over the smooth skin of her skin, caressing as he caressed her with his tongue. Sara groaned, her tongue slipping to the back of her throat, her body nearly liquefying.

Nearly.

She pulled him up before she could and kissed him soundly, profusely excited that he found it exciting as well. Sara felt incredibly erotic, doing such a thing and groaned rather loudly. Her lithe hands made quick work divesting him of his slacks.

Sara was unbearably excited at the notion of testing the strength of the hard plaster. "Here?" She asked him. "Against the wall?"

Grissom paused for a moment, his eyes softening at her words. "Is that okay?"

She grinned evilly and wrapped one leg around his thighs, pulling him completely against her as she captured his lips with her own. Sara grabbed him around the neck to stare him in the eye as he made his move, her lids slipping a fraction of an inch, peering at him in pleasure/pain.

"Okay?"

"Okay." She breathed, gripped his arms, slowly, against the wall so she wouldn't slip. He grinned at her and she grinned back. "'S different." She panted, realizing then that she was doing an awful lot of panting... and she liked it.

His legs began to tingle as he supported her weight and she felt the shift. Sara made an attempt to tighten her legs around his waist but she began to slip. Grissom's hands came out to grip her underneath but it was too late, there was no getting back into position.

Sara began to laugh at the unfortunate turn of events, unwrapped her legs and stood up straight.

"Floor. Now." She ordered, pointing from him to the floor. A new fit of laughter bubbled up in her throat when she saw the look on his face.

"The floor? We can always go to-"

She but him off, stepping right up in front of him. "Floor. Now." She growled this time, pushing at his shoulders just a bit, prompting him to get on the floor.

When he had done so, she loomed over him and bent to straddle his waist. "Good thing I had the sense to put in real carpets." He mumbled as she kissed him. Without warning, she descended on him, knocking all the air from his lungs.

"Warn a guy before you do that!" His voice rose, and she winked at him.

"Now where's the fun in that?" She retorted. He fell in sync with her but fumbled. Her rhythm was thrown off, so he grabbed her hips and moved with her, synchronizing.

"Love you." He whispered and she stopped moving to stare at him, her cheeks flushed, her hair tousled.

"I love you too." And she moved again, wondering if it should be so profound for her to hear him say that. He was too good at that for his own good.

Sara braced her palms on his chest and leaned over, her hair skimming his chest tickling him there.

Grissom's fingers dug harshly into the skin of her hips. "Sara..." He growled out, licking his lips.

"Love you, so much." She threw her head back as he did as she asked, remaining silent so that he could hear her as she followed him.

"Ahh, god." She called, stilled, and all but crumpled on his chest. His lips ended up in her hair, his palm, sticky with her passion coming to stroke over each knot in her spine. "So tired." She mumbled, kissing his collarbone much in the same manner that he had done to her earlier.

"Bed." He ordered in an authoritative tone, and she laughed, reluctantly peeling herself off of him. Sara was overwhelmingly excited at the prospect of sleeping in his bed. She stood, holding out a hand for Grissom to grab, and helped him to his feet.

He took her hand and guided her down the dark hallway to his bedroom, not bothering to flick on the light. He let go of her hand for only a moment to pull down the sheet of his tightly tucked bed. "Ladies first." He gestured in a gentlemanly manner, holding back the down comforter for her.

She pecked him quickly on the lips, giddy with love and crawled into the bed on all fours. Grissom followed, pulling the heavy top covers on top of them. Just as he did, the air conditioning kicked in with a barely perceptive hum.

Sara poked her nose out from under the comforter and looked at him. Grissom smiled warmly, leaned over and kissed the tip of it.

"When do we have to be up?" She asked quietly, snuggling down into his side.

"Six." He responded, equally as quiet.

"Kay." She replied and fell to sleep, surrounded by his warmth.


	12. The Revelation

a/n: SQUEEE!!!! Yayness! Kicking this one out for GeekLoveFan, so fun to talk to. Barenaked Ladies rock! (I think I've begun to culture another die-hard fan!) ALSO! To Katherine, who, while drunk last night, pointed out how trippy it is to watch them :::ZOOM::: in on evidence. Yeah, never get drunk and watch CSI. We were calling Grissom GRISHAM and then started talking about John Grisham... and it all went to hell.

This is what I like to call a bridge chapter. It's boring, but you have to read it… because I said so.

---

"Breakfast?" Nick posed the question in the locker room as Catherine was pulling out her jacket. She turned her attention to him and nodded.

"Sure. Someone's gotta go tell the others. I'll meet you guys there in twenty." Pulling her blonde hair out of her collar, she grabbed her bag and slammed the metal door to her locker, leaving hurriedly.

Warrick nodded and went off in search of the others. He caught up with Greg and Sara going over a DNA printout.

"We're doin' breakfast, you guys game?" He threw himself into the room, startling Greg. Sara's head shot up quickly, also taken off guard by Warrick's entrance.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Sara handed the printout back to Greg, who placed it on the table and nodded at Warrick.

"I'll go tell Grissom and Brass." Warrick said, slapped the doorjamb and was gone.

"So, now I'm being included in the group outings?" Greg pondered aloud, excited.

"Looks like it rookie." Sara said, punching him in the arm before she left. Greg grinned broadly and began tidying up his workspace in preparation for breakfast.

Sara made her way quickly to the locker room. She tossed her lab coat in the laundry bin and retrieved her things from her locker. She checked her hair quickly in the mirror, smoothed it out with her hands, applied some chap stick and left the locker room. On her way out, she quickly stopped by Grissom's office.

"You comin'?" She asked. Grissom had his head in a file, reading intently. He held up his hand, indicating to her to give him a moment, and the looked up at her. "Yeah. You need a ride?"

"Oh, no, no. Are you coming to my place after or...?"

Grissom smiled just slightly, got up from his seat and ushered her into his office quickly. Her head bobbed around, confused at his actions. She was about to question him when he shut the door and pressed her against it. Sara's eyes widened as his lips dropped to her neck. "It's been two and a half weeks. I can't take this."

Her lips broke out in a smile at his unbridled lust. "I know, I know. We've been busy, but... we. Have. To. Go. Now." She laughed as she pushed her off of him. He pouted, straightened out his glasses.

"Damn you woman. Look at me, unhinged." He glared at her mockingly, pursing his lips. "Uncontrolled. Unhinged." He growled at her. Sara threw her hair over her shoulder, blew him a kiss comically and opened the door.

"See you in a bit." And then she was gone.

Catherine was the last to arrive at the diner, with the exception of Brass who told Warrick that he'd be extremely late. She arrived at the table to a smiling, laughing bunch. It was nice to have the old group back, laughing and carefree, truly acting like a team.

"We ordered your usual." Warrick told Cath, sliding over in the booth so that she could sit next to him. They talked animatedly for a few moments. Catherine had been about to discuss the lab's Christmas event when their orders came up and Nick went to retrieve them. Sara got up to help him.

Nick placed a plate of fruit in front of his supervisor. Grissom glanced at it non-committally.

"Sara and I are in a relationship." Grissom stated, shielding himself from any blow he might receive by taking along swig of his coffee.

"I thought you said no grand declarations!" Sara piped up, her cheeks red with embarrassment and anger. Grissom shrugged and took a stab of strawberry. "I was just getting good at the...with the smiling and the... not being in a relationship with you, like." She grumbled, no longer hungry for the toast she had been holding.

"That was a declaration?" Catherine huffed, throwing her blonde hair out of her face, stealing a bit of pancakes from Warrick's plate. He didn't seem to notice.

"For him it was." Warrick said, taking a bite of his toast. He swallowed, allowing the information to process. "Wait, what the hell?" Warrick's remaining toast fell to his plate.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What just happened here?" Nick shook his head as if there were something caught in it. Greg just sat there, mouth wide with shock.

"Raise your hand if you're surprised." Catherine said dryly, eating her toast, not bothering to take part in the conversation. She was sure that Greg would have raised his hand had he not been paralyzed.

"Hell yes I'm surprised!" Nick exclaimed, nearly knocking coffee all over himself and Sara in the process. He steadied his coffee mug and then looked over at Sara, who had her head down, attempting to stifle a grin. "When did this happen?"

Grissom looked to Sara, wondering who was going to field the question. Sara was still attempting not to smile. "Three, uh, three weeks. Ago, three weeks ago." Grissom finally stopped fidgeting and looked at the group before him.

Sara's grin overtook her, and she began to laugh. "What?" Warrick asked, still in a state of shock. Sara laughed even harder and pointed to Greg, who still sat paralyzed, his mouth still hanging open.

Grissom almost laughed but contained it and straightened up in his seat. "I thought it would be... prudent... to tell the team before...well... I just thought it would be prudent." He finished, very businesslike.

"Riiiiiight." Nick drawled, his mind playing catch up. "So how serious is this? I mean did Sara have to force herself upon you or what? She can be very convincing when she wants to be." Sara glared at him, but waited for Grissom to speak. He was the one who brought up the subject, he would be the one to explain it to their friends.

The older man cleared his throat, and took another sip of coffee. Catherine was now eyeing him intently, anticipating how he would describe he and Sara's relationship to their friends. Grissom looked to Sara, who raised her eyebrow, also curious as to how he'd describe their predicament.

"I, I am very much..." Grissom licked his lips and wiped an imaginary smudge off of the side of his coffee mug. "I'm very much in love with our Sara Sidle." His stomach lurched violently, having made his confession. He heaved a large sigh and sat back in the booth, not caring to notice any of his teammates expressions.

Sara, who wasn't expecting a declaration of such epic emotions, stared at him in unabashed shock. Her eyes blinked rapidly, and she shook her head to make sure that she heard him correctly.

"Well. Well..." Warrick said, unsure that he could find words to accurately pinpoint what he wanted to say.

"I'd like to offer my congratulations Gil." Catherine said, quite impressed with the way he had handled the situation. "And say that... I'm very happy for you."

"Ditto." Nick said, sticking out his hand, shaking Gil's heartily. He turned his attention to Sara. "And you! I can't believe you kept this from me!" He ribbed her good-naturedly. "Can't believe this. You actually love this guy?" Nick said to her in a mock whisper. Jostling her in the ribs.

Sara ducked her head, just a bit, her hair falling into her eyes. The table stared, waiting for her answer. She picked her head up and smiled with half of her lips. "Yeah, I do." Sara said rather quietly. Nick smiled, broadly. Grissom reached across the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing her hand hard.

"Little sis is all grown up!" Nick cried, wiping invisible tears from the corner of his eyes. Warrick grinned at him and laughed.

"Don't encourage him." Sara admonished.

Grissom grinned, throwing everyone off. He looked at Sara, closed his eyes, and his grin grew wider.

"Yeah boss, congratulations." Greg chose that moment to snap out of his paralysis and smile, also shaking Grissom's hand.

"What, I don't get any?" Sara asked.

"Oh, yeah. Congratulations Sara, and thank you for relieving us of brooding Grissom. I think the whole night shift will thank you for that." Cath said, patting the other woman on the back good-naturedly.

"And I take it this is just an… us thing." Greg said, eyeing Grissom wearily. "As in, not a topic for discussion… aside from you know, amongst ourselves." Greg smiled lewdly, and was astonished when Grissom threw him a ghost of a smile.

"Correct." Grissom replied easily.

"Wow, man, what a way to initiate me into the gang." Greg finished, returning to his burnt home fries with renewed vigor.

Just then, an out-of-breath Brass walked briskly up to the table. "Hey, whad'I miss?"


	13. Christmas Spirit

a/n: To Little Sidle!!! Yay for Xmas break huh? Wait til you're in college, get a whole freakin month off. Totally loved your review. And get well soon!!! And people from AMSTERDAMN (CSI-FanForLive) are reviewing. What the-... okay... time to go mail some pirated BNL CD's.

---

"Higher!" Catherine demanded, Greg standing on tiptoes on the chair. His hand reached out as far as it could to hang the plastic holly.

"This high enough? My arm can't grow any longer Catherine." Greg claimed huffily, tacking up the decoration before she even responded.

"I'm just spreading holiday cheer." Cath claimed, throwing up her hands. And she was trying to spread the cheer. Evidence of her freakin cheer was all over the lab, from the real mistletoe hanging above the doorways to the Christmas music that was on constant loop in the breakroom.

"I know you are. You're spreading my patience too. Wow, never thought I'd say that. Be proud. You pushed me over the edge." He grinned, and then let his lips fall. "Back to DNA. And just remember, I've fulfilled my 'festive'" He made bunny ears with his fingers, "Obligation. Now leave me alone, or you'll be the one answering to Grissom."

Greg spun around and exited the break room in much the way Cath assumed that Prince would. She shook her head and went about cleaning up the mess she had made in the spirit of Christmas.

Sara walked in moments later, empty coffee mug in hand, seeking a refill. Dropping her mug on the counter, she checked the outside corridor. "You seen Greg anywhere?" Sara asked Catherine conspiratorially.

"Uh yeah, he just left, went back to process. Why?"

"Good!" Sara piped up, reached up to the cabinet, and rummaged through it quickly, returning triumphantly with a small blue bag. "Found Greg's stash, want a cup?" She shook the bag in front of Catherine and watched as the blonde's eye's followed the movement of the bag.

"But... that's Greg's coffee." Cath stated, refusing to take her eyes off of the tropical dark roast.

"Yeah." Sara nodded, fully understanding what he co-worker was saying. "Do. You. Want. Some." She shook the bag again for emphasis.

"If you're taking the blame, then yes, yes I do. Strong, very strong." The decorations were finally shoved tightly into the bag and Catherine spun to face Sara, bracing her hands on the countertop behind her.

"So, Gil's place? Really?"

Sara's back was still turned when she answered. "He's the one who said it was a good idea. I had nothing to do with it, if that was your question."

"Really."

"Swear to god." Sara threw back immediately after the words had left her co-workers mouth.

"What have you done to the man?" Catherine exclaimed good-naturedly. "First, he turns in the evaluations, not on time, but a day early, then he offers to have us all over for Christmas. And you, you stand here before me and claim you have nothing to do with it."

"He mentioned it to me. So... yeah." Sara said, pouring two cups of stolen coffee. She added a little cream and sugar to each and handed one to Catherine.

"So I gather you'll be doing all the decorating."

"It appears so. To the best of my incredibly limited ability. And I stress that. I asked him if he wanted a tree... and he looked at me like I had three heads." Sara shook her head, amused. "So I guess that's a big no."

"Oh, no no no. Last time he said he didn't want a tree, the man claimed he was Jewish. He's getting a tree. He'll deal with the pine needles and the sap and the damn fresh scent if it kills him."

The brunette smiled at Catherine's determination. "That's all you. I was planning to rope him into it at some point, and believe me, I'd be more than willing to have the extra help. God knows you're much more persuasive than me. And by persuasive I of course mean unabashedly violent."

Catherine smiled, as did Sara. They'd been happy at work far too much for it to be normal, and they both chalked it up to the holiday spirit.

"I'll take that as a complement and say this... I won't not be by Gil's tomorrow at seven to not, not drag him, and you, to get a real Christmas tree... yeah." Catherine nodded judiciously, and, taking another long sip of her coffee, left Sara alone in the break room to sort out her double negatives.

At six-thirty the next day, Sara was seated in front of her laptop perched precariously atop Grissom's breakfast bar. Grissom was seated on his couch, reviewing forensic journals, highlighting and underlining things. The relative silence that had fallen over them was comfortable, and Sara often found herself pulling her head out of the computer to glance at him.

She was about to dive into another article when a confident knock sounded on the door. Her head fell in a smile as she allowed Grissom to get up off the couch to answer it. He glanced at her briefly before checking the peephole. His resigned sigh almost made her laugh, but he wouldn't have heard it. He was too busy opening the door, watching Catherine come in with a flourish.

She was beaming, a wool hat securely on her head. She looked from Griss to Sara, back to Griss. "You ready?" She asked, clearly pumped. Grissom was confused, and immediately turned to Sara, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry! But, but you know how Catherine is!" Sara threw up her hands but continued to smile at him. She shrugged and turned to Catherine. The other woman grinned back at her, giddy, her eyes glittering.

Grissom squinted his eyes and looked accusingly at Cath. "What's this about?"

"We, my friend, are getting a Christmas tree." The blonde said frankly, her hands on her hips, lip between her teeth, still grinning like a fool. "And... here's the kicker, you'll love it... when the gang comes over... they'll all bring ornaments... and we'll all decorate it." She finished in a flourish, excited at her own genius. Sara smiled warmly at the thought of everyone lending to the holiday cheer.

Grissom stood there, expression blank. Sara's smiled dropped after a few moments of silence. He hand touched his arm. "Gil?"

"No tree, I'm... allergic to... pine." He stated, voice even.

"You're allergic to pine?" Catherine pressed, advancing on him.

"Uh, yeah. Pinesol, pine scent, " His voice sounded absolutely pathetic as he said so. He moved back as Catherine advanced on him.

She laughed in his face. Sara stepped between them, placed both of her hands on his biceps. "Griss, come on, let's get a tree. You'll love it. Just try it."

"You say that now, but I'm going to be the one who's gonna end up decorating and watering it." He softened at the giddiness in her eyes and acquiesced, his body slumping in defeat.

Catherine grinned in victory, and clapped her hands together. "Grab you coats, it's chilly out. And hurry. Lindsey wants to see her Uncle Gil."

"Lindsey's coming?" Sara asked, quite unsure.

"Yeah." Catherine said quickly, flippantly.

"It's just I've... I don't think she likes me much since..." Sara trailed off, shrugging into her coat when Grissom held it out to her.

"Oh, shut up. She knows you're 'Double G''s new girlfriend." Cath said overly satisfied with her daughter's nickname for her boss.

They made their way out the door, and Catherine barely heard Sara say, "You know I'm calling you that from now on, right?" In a low, mocking voice. A moment later, she laughed fitfully, a response to, what Catherine could only guess was, a jab in the ribs with her fingers.

Once inside the large SUV, Lindsey was reintroduced to Sara, who fidgeted uneasily in the backseat, having being sat directly beside the young girl. Lindsey smiled, pushing her hair back out of her eyes.

"Mom doesn't think I like you." She whispered to Sara after a time, her mother and Gil pre-occupied in the front seat, arguing over her driving. Lindsey looked sternly at Sara. "But I think that she's upset because you dress better than she does."

Sara laughed, suddenly, smiling at Lindsey. She smiled back and they both turned to look out their respective windows.

"What's going on back there?" Catherine inquired, hearing the laughter, wondering about the good humor that had overcome both her daughter and her friend.

Lindsey continued to stare out the windows. "Sara's teaching me bad words." She said dryly, eliciting a "Yeah I am" from Sara. Catherine looked at her daughter in the rear-view mirror.

"Are they good?" She asked.

"You know it." Lindsey replied with a grin. She looked back at her mother in the mirror and then looked to Sara, who was chuckling silently.

They arrived at the tree farm long minutes later, Christmas music on the radio. Lindsey had begun to sing along and Sara found herself humming a bit too. Grissom caught her eye in the side-view mirror once she began and she smiled at him. He tilted his head and for a moment, sat expressionless. Then he smiled at her and looked back to the road.

As soon as the car was stopped, Lindsey darted from the car, her Christmas spirit getting the best of her. "Guys! Hurry up!"

"The trees aren't going anywhere Linds, slow down." Catherine called, jogging merrily after her. Grissom looked down at Sara, who watched the spectacle with shining eyes. His face softened to it's most base point and took Sara's hand in his, leaning down for a quick kiss before he tugged her on, urging her after the other two.

It was chilly out, for Vegas, and Sara moved to zip her jacket all the way to her chin as she watched the young toe-headed child dart in and out of trees, followed quickly by Catherine, who was all too eager to catch her.

It was good, Gil realized, to find that Catherine and her daughter were getting along. They both seemed so at ease with each other. Perhaps it was the Christmas spirit, he mused. He too noticed that Sara was watching the scene unfold with an air of sadness.

Surprising himself, in a grand gesture of public affection, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him as they walked on. "Sad?" He asked after they had walked a few steps.

"Hmmm?" She looked up at him, evidently lost in thought. "Oh, no. Just, it's... Catherine's such... just she's a natural mother." Sara said, smiling once again, a tinge of sadness hindering the true smile.

"She is." Grissom agree, seeing the two stop at a tree and begin discussing it. Sara laughed in spite of herself, the sound not happy, but bitter. Grissom sensed her discomfort and hugged her tighter. "I know, it's not my place to..."

Sara's eyes snapped to his as he began on another one of his sporadic 'from the heart's' that were becoming increasingly less disconcerting. He was letting her in... and that was a good thing. It was still quite unsettling though.

"It's apparent you're not... I know you don't think you're good with kids but... there'll be a day when-" Grissom was trying greatly to find just the right words. He was walking a thin line with what he was trying to say. "Aw, hell." He threw caution to the wind. "You'll make a great mother." He finally said, still holding her tight, but no longer making eye contact with her.

Sara tried not to smile. She tried, very hard in fact, but was unable to contain it. She reached up, touched his cheek and turned his face to hers. Tilting her head forward, she gave him a very serious look of thanks as she smiled and kissed him softly. He smiled into their kiss as well, happy that he had apparently found the right words.

"Hey! Stop making out and pick out a tree!" Lindsey called, stepping out in front of Catherine. Her mother looked down at her with stunned, and if Sara could discern correctly, proud eyes.

"You heard the lady, Double G." Sara said, disentangled herself from his arms and joined the other two women


	14. Bring on the Cheer

a/n: Ahhh, deleted Stalemate. Silly people. Makes me mad but eh. Whatcha gonna do, right? I'd like to thank Mark, GeekLoveFan's husband, who retrieved my story from her cache. Thank god because I deleted most of it. Perhaps I can update it again with the "offensive" chapters deleted. So thanks all of you who review!!!

Welcome to complete OOC land! Please keep your arms and legs inside the cheesemobile at all times. Seriously, I'm warning you. Cheese galore. I had to do it though. Don't worry, the next couple of chapters will be chock full o' Geek lovin'.

Yay for being able to call Holly in Tennessee for free! Verizon, you rock!!! I called Holly up, asking her about potential gifts from Sara to Grissom. Her response: "What do you get for the guy... who doesn't... want anything...? I'm glad I'm not married to that man... well... and... you know... he's not real."

Holly:...and she didn't cite her source so...

Me: 'Cite your source'... you are such a dweeb.

Holly: The fact that you know what I'm talking about... makes you a dweeb too.

**Come onnnn! It's baaaaack! Reviiiiiew!**

---

"So... so far we've got..." Catherine held the pen up to the pad of paper and began rattling off names. "You and me, of course, Gil, Nick, Warrick, Greg, Jacqui, David, Archie, Bobby, Hodges," Catherine and Sara shared a look at that as Cat continued. "Brass, Al... and all of their guests, but I'm betting that half of them won't bring anyone. I know I won't be, and you won't be, Gil and Warrick won't be..."

Cath spoke rapidly. "Wait, why won't Warrick be bringing anyone? Last I heard he was dating-"

"Because he won't." The other woman halted Sara from finishing her sentence. "Now, about the food..."

---

"This... is... insane." Sara said, stressing the words more with her hand motions than with her mouth. Surveying the food around her, she wondered where they'd put it all. Peeking under a tin foil wrapped dish to survey the contents, she was elated to see an expanse of baked eggplant.

She peeked under the next one and saw stuffed peppers. Two dishes and so far no meat, Sara was truly elated.

"Insane." She said a bit louder when Catherine re-entered the room. "Look at all this food!"

"Yeah, there was uh, a bit in petty cash..." Catherine replied, reaching up to pull on her ear. "Look in the other two." She gestured at two large cardboard boxes on the floor. Sara held eye contact with Cath as she experimentally pushed at the box with her foot.

"It weighs a ton!"

"Uh, yeah." She pulled an imaginary speck of dust off of her sweater.

Pursing her lips, Sara bent and opened the first box, only to be greeted with a copious amount of alcohol. Nearly falling back on her hands, Sara spoke. "Uh, yeah... designated drivers?"

"Mmm, yeah, well, David doesn't really drink..."

"Doesn't really drink or doesn't drink?" Sara asked, standing up, not even bothering to examine the other box, knowing full well what it contained.

"So... there might be some people taking cabs home. How about that." Cath didn't wait for Sara's response. She disappeared down the hall.

Sara stood in the middle of the living room, staring at all of the food. Huffing out a sigh, she set about setting up all of the food, not anticipating Grissom's return from the grocery store. She cleared the breakfast bar of books and then did the same with the coffee table. Sara debated whether or not to search through his storage unit for another table. God knows what she's find.

When she was finished, she took particular pride in her work. Food, everywhere... everywhere. So much food that she was completely positive that they'd have leftovers for weeks. Next, she set about displaying the alcohol, which would, of course be a focal point of the entire setup.

Both Catherine and Grissom chose that moment to enter the room, and both stared at her: a bottle of Grey Goose in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. Sara looked to the both of them, to one, then the other, then shot them a helpless smile and continued setting up.

"Catherine, I think this would constitute slightly over the top." Grissom stated, not even having yet taken his coat off, staring at among other things, the food and the decorations. And his townhouse, much to his surprise, was clean. Practically smiling. And it didn't smell of Pine Sol, it smelled of pine, as the tree stood in all of its glory in a corner quadrant of his living space.

"Says the Grinch." Sara called, again, fisting two large bottles of alcohol.

Grissom shot her a glare. "Now that's original." He deadpanned, and dropped his grocery bags on the floor. "I'll be right back, I left some bags downstairs."

Grissom returned moments later, overcome with bags of every shape and size, most of them glittering wildly, bows and paper sticking out at odd angles.

Sara looked to him, astonished. "Overboard much?"

"No." He grunted, dumping the merchandise on the sofa. "First year I've cared enough to actually shop for people." Catherine made to make a sarcastic remark but Grissom held up his hand. "Say nothing." He demanded, sounding like some automaton. "Or you don't get yours."

Catherine promptly shut up and flopped down on the sofa next to the packages. She took a peek at the bags but Grissom cleared his throat and she instead focused her attention on the bare tree. "So, everyone is bringing ornaments."

Sara nodded excitedly, grinning. It had been years since she had the desire to indulge in Christmas spirit and she was even more enthused that she had a wonderful group of people to celebrate it with.

She was snapped out of her reverie by a loud beeping coming from the general direction of the kitchen. "The pies are done." She then moved to the oven, grabbed a pair of worn mitts and pulled the three pies from the fiery enclosure.

"You baked?" Grissom asked, his eyebrow taking the opportunity to arch. Sara was, for a brief moment, the picture of domesticity, transferring the pies to a cooling rack, locating the hot plate that Catherine had brought over. Gil smiled and sat down next to the blonde on the couch.

"Yeah, we made out own pies. Got, you know, in the spirit. We got our boysenberry, pecan, and apple, along with the pumpkin, blueberry... and uh, other apple pie... that we ordered." Sara's hands went to her hips and she surveyed her surroundings.

"I'm..." She began triumphantly, "Gonna shower!" She said and disappeared from the room.

Catherine laughed at her good nature and turned to pat Gil on the shoulder. "I'm gonna head home too. Gotta change. I'll be back in an hour." She called over her shoulder as she made her way to the door.

Grissom was left alone in his living room, surrounded by the mingling scents of pine and fragrant food. He sat for a moment, and then followed Sara into the shower. She giggled when he pulled back the curtain and stepped in, but she invited him into her soapy arms without question.

---

Catherine was, surprisingly, the first to arrive, a large bag full of gifts in her hand. Before placing her gifts down, she looked Grissom up and down. "Nice shirt, your collar is wacky." Grissom grumbled and fixed it, then shut the door and followed Catherine into the living room.

She was rummaging through a bag, swearing quietly, under her hands fell upon what she was looking for. "Aha! Tree skirt!" She said and dropped to her knees, wrapping it around the large pine tree. She then set about placing her gifts under the tree. "Hey, give me yours... and Sara's while you're at it, I'll arrange them."

It appeared that Catherine had become the Christmas-party nazi, and Grissom was more than okay with that. He wasn't great at entertaining in the first place. Wasn't good... at entertaining. At all. Shrugging, he made is way to the bedroom, having to make three trips to get all of the gifts under the tree.

"Now, everyone else will have to put theirs... somewhere...else..." She looked around the townhouse, "If we want to decorate the tree without, you know, killing ourselves. "

"Good point." Griss said, turning to watch as Sara entered the room. She was slipping an earring into her ear, attempting to toss her hair out of her eyes. Clad in cranberry pants and a soft cream sweater, she looked incredibly comfortable, as did Catherine, in a long red suede skirt, brown heeled boots and black sweater.

"Alrighty, food's heating, egg nod's... being... uh, alcoholic and we're... dressed." Catherine went over things in her head. "So, I'm gonna fix myself a drink."

She did, a strong scotch and sipped it appreciatively. "Bring on the cheer." She growled into her glass, causing Grissom to smile and Sara to laugh.

---

"What's this?" Nick asked, picking up the empty CD casing. "Barenaked for the Holidays? Is this dirty Greg?"

The young lab tech shot him a look. "My sister sent it to me for Christmas, as a joke. I used to listen to these guys all the times. Funny dudes." He pressed play on the antiquated CD player, as soft strains of Jingle Bells filled the townhouse.

"Riiiiiight." Nick drawled, bringing the bottle of beer up to his lips, spinning around. He jumped when the song swung into action, no longer tame, becoming zany and loud. Warrick chuckled as he wiped the beer from the front of his shirt with a napkin.

"Good stuff." Greg reiterated, happily sipping his cup of overly alcoholic eggnog.

"Dude, are you even old enough to drink?" Nick joked. Greg ignored him and moved across the room to "chill" with Archie.

"I'm surprised Grissom pulled all of this together." Warrick commented. He rethought his statement and spoke again. "Even with... Sara and Cath's help." He nodded, taking a long gulp of his vodka.

Grissom's door was continually opening and shutting. Doc Robbins and his wife arrived, the woman bubbling over with holiday cheer. She was quick to embrace Gil, and then Sara, who hugged back awkwardly and introduced herself.

"Going better than I thought it would." Cath leaned over at one point and whispered into Sara's ear, who agreed fully. As she stood back and observed her co-workers, Grissom threw an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head and she stepped away.

"Uh, Gil... half of these people, you know..."

"I don't care. They won't ask, and we won't say anything." He replied, pulling her back into his warm side. She smiled weakly and continued to watch the people in front of her. Everyone, everyone, was smiling and talking.

Nick smacked Brass on the shoulder with the back of his hand and exclaimed, "I swear!" And Brass laughed in response. Bobby was talking to Archie and Greg about his new car, and the younger men were enthralled. He offered to let them drive it sometime. Jacqui and her husband sat with Catherine, Warrick and Hodges, talking about something Sara couldn't make out, animatedly. She was shocked to notice that Hodges was actually fitting in with the rest of the night shift, laughing along with them-she was even more shocked to see that they were accepting his company.

Sara smiled, in spite of herself. Gil had turned to talk to Al and his wife, with Sara still in his arms. Sara's attention was focused entirely on the scene before her.

"So, Miss Sidle and yourself?" Al asked Gil, his own arm fully around his wife. She was smiling, leaning into his side in an age-old show of affection.

'So much for no questions.' Gil thought to himself, and looked over at Sara, who seemed as if she wasn't on the planet. "So it would seem." Grissom stated, his voice more emotional than the Doc had ever heard before.

"Did you finally stop hating yourself long enough to let her catch you then?" Al asked, reaching over to the table, picking up his scotch and sipping from it. Annie, his wife, placed her hand over his heart.

"Albert! That's not appropriate." She said on a laugh, looking to her husband lovingly. He just shrugged and took another sip.

Grissom smiled broadly and jostled Sara with his arm in a show of affection, and she turned up to him, smiling unevenly. She was quite unsure how to go about handling the situation.

"Sara, glad to see someone finally made this old coot smile again." Al smiled at the two of them, reaching out, pinching Sara's chin. Her cheeks flushed and she hung her head a bit, felt as if she was sixteen.

"She can make anyone smile." Grissom said, low, and the smile disappeared from his face. He stared into her eyes, which smiled in spite of her lips.

"You're cliché." She whispered to him.

"You're too critical of my ways. What can I say? I'm old fashioned, I like to romance you." Griss whispered back, pecking her on the nose in front of Al and Annie. They both laughed. Sara smacked him on the arm, floating on what she could only guess was a cloud of endorphins.

She floated her way over to Greg and the guys and fell into easy conversation with them. She had her arm around both Archie and Greg when Grissom looked over and his stomach flip-flopped. It was amazing to finally allow himself to relax around the people he was closest with. It was amazing that he could now look at Sara touching other men and not feeling a pang of jealousy (especially after what she had done to him in the shower earlier).

He watched Sara as he listened to Al speak, he saw her smack Archie on the arm and berated him, while smiling, for something he had said. Greg poked her in the ribs and she jumped and glared at him, but then she laughed and made them sit on the couch while she heard about Bobby's new car.

Grissom wandered around the room when Warrick came over to get his ear talked off by Annie. It turned out they both enjoyed jazz piano and Warrick was more than eager to indulge in conversation about the topic. Al wandered over and spoke with Bobby just as Sara got up to throw her arms around Nick.

"Sis, you're amazing, you know that?" His tongue had been slightly loosened by the beer he'd been drinking, but he was far from drunk. His arms tightened around her neck and he lifted her. She squealed and kissed his cheek, finding that the vodka and tonic she had consumed earlier had loosened her. They stood, arms linked, near the Christmas tree and talked.

"You're happy then?" Nick asked, speaking low and serious.

"Of course I am." She said seriously, laying her head on his shoulder.

"And he treats you right?"

"He treats me like... like he's making up for the past couple of years. He treats me like some sort of... I don't know... It's wonderful and strange though."

"Strange?" Nick questioned, walking the both of them to the kitchen so he could retrieve another beer.

"Never been loved before. It's all so strange." She responded, reaching over, grabbing the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a glass. She promptly topped the glass off with lime tonic water and a wedge of lime.

They walked back into the living room and disengaged. Brass made his way over to her, on the way, opening his arms for a hug. She hugged him apprehensively, but seems to relax when he said into her ear: "So good to see you bright, doll."

"Bright?"

Brass nodded, swirling the scotch he held in his hand. "Shining, like you used to."

"Did someone slip something into the punch?" Sara asked amusedly, looking into her drink. "What's with everyone checking up on me?"

Brass looked to his drink as well and then met her eyes. "I just worry about you. No explanation. You remind me...Nah, I just worry about you. I worry about Nicky too." He gestured to the young man with his head and smiled back at Sara.

Sara walked across the room, refreshing her drink. "Hey David!" She said, smiling at the young man.

He smiled back at her, ladling himself out some eggnog. "It's shame Amy couldn't come, we all wanted to meet her." She threw her arm around his neck and he laughed a bit.

"She's very upset that she couldn't come, but she couldn't get off shift." David shrugged. He sipped from his cup and placed it down on the counter.

"You Sara, seem very comfortable in this house." He flitted his eyes around the apartment, not wanting to make eye contact with her.

"Mmm." Sara murmured non-commitally. She winked at David, whose face blanked. After a moment, he picked up his cup once more, shot her a smile and sipped.

"So that's why you never took to me?" David asked in jest.

Sara thought for a moment, bringing her drink to her lips. "Then where would Amy be?" David smiled at her and replied.

"True."

"How serious is this Dave?"

"How serious are you guys?" David posed.

"Touché." Sara laughed. "That serious huh?" She moved closer to him, placing a hand on his forearm, rubbing there.

David looked at his shoes and then back at Sara. "I've been looking at rings... and I uh..."

Sara was shocked. She wrapped her arms around him, and he was startled for moment, and then returned the hug warmly. "Good for you." She said into his ear, in a rare show of public affection.

"Okay people!" Catherine shouted excitedly. "Let's decorate the tree, then we can open the gifts." She pointed to a pile in the corner. It was huge, nearly toppling over. Grissom looked to it and smirked. He worked them all so hard they probably had no time to spend their money, and had splurged now.

"Gil, you do the honor." Cath said, looking to her boss expectantly. Grissom looked back at her expressionless, but she pushed one of the glittery snowflakes she had bought into his hands. He took it, and surprisingly, grabbed Sara's hand and led her to the tree. Jacqui laughed at the expression on her face when he did so but said nothing.

He placed the ornament in her hand and guided her hand up to place it on the tree. After it was securely in place, he grabbed her hand and waved back aimlessly with the other. Catherine saw the cue and dug into the ornaments that everyone had brought.

As soon as they were out of the mess that was their employees, he kissed her firmly on the lips, knowing no one would notice, everyone was engrossed in the tree.

"Merry Christmas." He said into their kiss before she captured his lips again.

"Mmm, merry Christmas." She said against his neck when she let her head fall onto his shoulder. They turned and watched as night shift decorated the tree. Watched, remarkably, as Catherine and Hodges traded ornaments, laughing them and placed them on sturdy branches.

Butterflies, snowmen, Snoopy, snowflakes, drums, nutcrackers, music notes, golden carriages, beetles, much to Grissom's delight, adorned the tree.

They all smiled in glee when the ornaments were gone, many of them going to retrieve more food and to refresh their drinks. "I have a present for you later." Grissom whispered as they separated and moved to get food.

"I have one for you too, would you look at that?"

Grissom frowned. "You didn't have to get me anything." He said, brushing her hair away from her face as she bent to get some lasagna.

"Oh shut up." Sara hip checked him and moved away, taking her plate to the table to speak with Jacqui. He, amused, weaved his way over to Nick and Warrick and sat with them.

Hours later, after everyone was gone, and gifts had been exchanged (much to Sara's delight, Nick gave her a framed picture of the two of them at the previous year's Christmas party), Sara set about cleaning up the townhouse. It took her a bit of time, but once she was finished, she paused to admire the tree that everyone had decorated.

"It's oddly beautiful." Grissom spoke softly from the doorway. He was leaning against it, watching her, one of his favorite pastimes. She smiled and looked at him over her shoulder.

"It's chaos." She said, moving forward to toy with a snowflake. Grissom moved forward as well, catching her hips in his hands, placing his chin on her shoulder.

"Come on, I've got something to show you." Sara smiled up at him and he grabbed her hand, drawing her through the hall to his bedroom.

He stood in the middle of the room, still. He pointed to the closet, and she looked to it, finding a bow there. "This?" She asked. He nodded, and Sara moved forward to open it.

She turned the knob, and flicked on the light to the walk-in closet. She was surprised to see the right side of it completely devoid of clothing. Her brow creased and she stepped back. "Wha-... ohhhhh!" She squealed in delight. "You made room in your closet for me?"

Gil nodded, and stepped back to see her reaction. "That's just about the sweetest thing ever, you get points." Sara said, advancing on him.

"Oh really? How many?" He ground out.

"Enough." She said, capturing his lips with hers. He was delighted to kiss her for a while, but pushed her back after a few moments.

"What?" Sara whined, leaning into him again, quite content to do nothing for the rest of the evening but kiss him. He held her shoulders tight and laughed, she pouted.

"That's not all of it honey." Grissom said, pecking her on the top of the head, then leading her into the living room. They sat side by side on the couch and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box, wrapped with a silver bow.

He handed it to her, nonchalantly, not wanting to add a lot of flare to the whole process. She smirked and took the box, undoing the ribbon very, very slowly. Grissom bit his lip and watched on. "Just open it already!" He said, losing his patience.

Sara laughed and lifted the lid of the box, and much to Grissom's dismay... did not gasp at the contents. Squirming in his seat, he moved back, unsure how to act.

Sara sat stock still, staring down at the contents of the box. A small silver band, a tiny ruby in the middle, flanked by diamonds and sapphires.

She stared, and stared... and stared some more. Grissom began to sweat just a bit, and finally broke the silence. "Sara?"

She looked to him, her eyes wide, mouth a tight line. "This... you can't give this to me. You have to... take this back." She looked at the lid of the box, Tiffany's. Tiffany's... she'd never been given anything Tiffany's. He'd never given anything like it, or ever given jewelry at all. None of it ever seemed to mean anything, just metal and stone, things that couldn't really express emotion.

"Take it back?" He asked, wanting to be incredulous, but settling on confused.

She shoved the box into his hand. "I can't even, don't even want to speculate on how much that cost." She said, pointing to the box in near horror.

"It's insured." He said, trying to give the box back to her.

"Insured!? It's expensive enough to be insured? I can't wear that!" She screeched. Grissom nearly laughed and held out the box to her. She shook her head, refusing to take it.

He opened the box and plucked out the ring, grabbed her shaking hand and slipped it on her right index pinkie. She stared down at it, in awe and pulled her hand back examining it.

Grissom smiled at her expression. "See, I knew it would be perfect. Perfect." He whispered, allowing her a moment to test the new weight on her finger. "It'll go perfectly..." He whispered equally as softly.

She snapped out of her reverie. "What?"

Grissom looked down to her left hand, imagining a ring there. A small, emerald cut, two-carat stone set in a silver band-

"Grissom?" She asked, moving directly next to him, kissing him incredibly tenderly. "Thank you." She whispered, kissing him again.

"And now for you." Sara said, leaping up from the couch, grabbing a thin box from under the tree.

"Sara," He began authoritatively. "You didn't have to get me anything." She scoffed at him and handed him the box.

"Yeah okay, I'm just gonna sit back and let you lavish me with gifts. Besides, Christmas is the season for giving. Freakin' deal with it. Oh, wait, give me that back!" She snatched the box back from him. Trotting over to the tree, she picked up another box, slightly larger, and heavier than the first, and shoved it into his hands.

"Open this one, I'm saving the other one for the morning. I intend to do Christmas morning right, once in my life. I kinda went nuts, with the gifts that is."

Grissom grinned and ripped the paper from the box, eager to see the gift. Sara stilled her hands with her own. "It's uh, I've had it for awhile. And, you know, you're room isn't very personal and well... actually now that I think of it, it's kinda of embarrassing. Oh just open it."

She threw her hands up in surrender and let him open the box. He peeled the paper away, revealing a sterling silver picture frame. The frame held a picture of her, years ago, with two of her peers and Grissom, gathered around a podium, all smiles. "This was after... what was her name..."

"Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth! Yes, she got that grant from the work you three did. I didn't know you had this." He trailed his finger over her smiling face. "Thank you." He whispered, getting up from the couch, walking into his bedroom, placing it on his bedside table. She walked up behind him and admired the picture.

"Looks good there." She said, wrapping her arms around his waist. He nodded, sighed.

"Bed?" He posed, and she nodded.

"I wanna take a bath first." She said, leaning her cheek on his back. He grinned and squeezed her hand.

"Mind if I join you?"

---

Sara woke in the morning with a familiar weight at her back. She stretched and yawned, her movements forcing him awake. Blinking several times, he made himself familiar with his surrounding and hugged the bundle in his arms. "Mmm, Merry Christmas." He mumbled, his tongue thick and heavy with sleep.

Sara smiled, and snuggled back into the warm mass that was Grissom. "And a merry one indeed." She drew out, her words followed by a deep yawn. "Best one yet."

He flipped her over and bent to kiss her. She turned her face away from him quickly. "Morning breath." She chided.

"Like I care." He shot back at her. His lips landed on hers again, his tongue between her lips. She didn't return his kiss as enthusiastically as she would have, self-conscious about her breath.

He broke away, breathless, and a flutter of butterflies started flitting around his stomach. "I'm the biggest fool in the world. Sara Sidle, you make me feel as if I'll burst." He nudged her neck with his nose and she nearly sobbed. Such beautiful words from such a guarded person.

She touched his face tenderly. "This all happened so fast Gil. So fast." She whispered. He frowned. "But I can't slow down. I love you, just love you so, so much Griss. I can't slow down." Slow down, she told herself, god damnit, slow the hell down. Stop admitting these things to him, not now, not now.

Grissom kissed her then, bit her lip, a bit hard. She moaned and fell right into his kiss. "I'm sorry, I tend to speed." He said after breaking off, feeling his love for her well up in his throat, and it shortened his breath.

He sat up in the bed, pulling on a shirt, jumping from the bed. "Breakfast..." He spoke, cracking his arms over his head. "And then presents." He said nonchalantly, but she knew he was giddy.

They got coffee, ate their eggs with little conversation and moved to the living room. Sara plugged in the lights on the tree, illuminating the pine magically.

"Haven't had a tree like this since I was six." Sara said, throwing herself onto the couch, curling her legs up underneath her. "Can you humor me?" She asked, as he made his way into the living room.

"Depends." he sipped from his coffee.

"Could you... turn the A/C on high? I mean, make it freezing in here?"

Grissom's brow furrowed. "Sure." He did as she asked and then returned to the living room. Sara smiled at him and invited him to sit next to her on the couch. She pulled an afghan over her lap, getting comfy on the couch in the chill air of the room.

As soon as they were seated, Sara shoved a package from the night before into his hands. He smiled at her demurely and slipped his finger into the envelope. He pulled out two tickets. Examining them, he leapt off of the sofa.

"Sara! Sara Sidle!" He quite literally swept her up in his arms, hugging her to the point of asphyxiation.

"You like it then." She huffed out. In his hands, he held two passes to every roller coaster in Vegas. It had taken some planning, but after awhile she had found a travel agency who had put together a package for her, at a hefty cost. She was proud of herself for finding something so fitting for him and was overly delighted with his expression.

The cells in her head were doing pirouettes, not simply from the lack of oxygen, but from the pure random moment of realization that she was in his arms. It happened to her from time to time, while looking at evidence or getting dressed.

Sara hummed low in her throat as he sat them both back down on the sofa, and he reached for and handed her, another package. She stilled the objection on her lips and grabbed the package, tearing the shiny paper from it greedily.

Shoving tissue paper aside, she pulled out a soft pink cashmere sweater. "Ohhh." Sara said, skimming the fabric of the top with her fingertips. Underneath, she found a matching hat, scarf and gloves, all which she sampled with eager fingers. Grissom watched as she tested the material, and reached for a larger, heavier box.

Sara's brow creased and she took the box, this time, opening it slower. The tissue paper inside of the box was fragranced, and she looked to him with a coy smile. Inside the box was a lime green and white Columbia ski jacket. Sara pulled it out of the box and looked to Grissom for some sort of explanation.

"It's very cold in New England." Was all he said, watching her eyes light up as her mind caught up to what he was saying. "New Hampshire in particular."

"New Hampshire... "

"For three days, in January." He confirmed, nodding his head. Sara's eyes sparkled, and she tossed the jacket aside.

Her lips connected with his hard, and he returned it, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. She pulled back for air, her hands skimming through his hair. "You tryin' to impress me or something?"

"Of course." He said, pretending to be serious. "Is it working?"

She didn't answer, instead, she resumed kissing him.


	15. From West to East

A/N: Megara1... wow. Just wow. All those reviews... at ONCE?! Thank you so much! WondrousNight, YOU'RE da bomb. :-P And djkittycat, thanks for the pep talk.

Alright, I'm using the house that we have in Sanbornville, New Hampshire. It's wonderful, it's on a lake, in the middle of the woods. Anyway, we barely go there in the winter, but the lake is perfect for ice skating.

Also, I threw in a little West Wing reference in there, blink and you'll miss it.

And, if you ever come to Boston, and you happen to be in Harvard Square, GO TO PETE'S TEA AND ORDER A MOCHA. It's bliss in a mug, I swear to you. Oh, and call me up. We'll chill. :::grins:::

Hmmm, and these chapters may be a bit short. I'm sorry, I really have to get back on the West Wing bandwagon. Yes, it's dive-bombing towards bad TV but I've been neglecting my shippy duties.

---

"I thought that you said it was for three days. Not five." Sara said, shoveling a forkful of rice into her mouth while balancing a book on her knee. Grissom was at the stove, removing his chicken. Sara had opted for rice and a salad, which he had taken the care to make for her, though he was still fazed by her vegetarian lifestyle.

He shoveled his meal onto a plate and took a seat across from her at the table. "It is. Three days uninterrupted, that's not counting the flight there and back."

Sara eyed him wearily. "Three days in the great white north?" And now she was skeptical.

He scoffed around a mouthful of rice and shot a glare at her. "We're not going to Canada. You're being dramatic." He shot her an amused look over the top of his glasses.

"You know what I mean." She had enough of the book's balancing act and tossed it on the table. "Where is this place anyway?"

Grissom took a sip of his wine and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Sanbornville. A little town in Wakefield. About forty-five minutes from Lake Winnipesaukee."

Sara nodded, then excitedly thrust her fork towards him. "Is that near Hampton?" She asked, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

He thought for a moment. "Uh no, I think that's on the coast, near Massachusetts. Why?"

"Oh, I just got all excited because I thought I knew where it was. I've been to Hampton before. Well, just the beach."

He stared at her, not understanding what exactly she was saying.

Sara elaborated. "Summer, sophomore year, me and a few friends hopped into a beat up old station wagon and went to Hampton Beach." She paused, staring back at him. "End of story." Another forkful of rice followed the conclusion of her sentence.

He quirked his brow as he cut through his chicken. "You're a bad story teller."

She threw her napkin at him.

---

The flight from Vegas to Manchester was spent sleeping, as the two CSI's had gone to the airport almost straight from shift. Sara has barely had the energy to make it through security, though she did find it amusing when Grissom was pulled aside for a random search.

He had grumbled when he returned, but she put a stop to it by suggesting that later on, she give him a pat down of her own. At that point his hand had slipped around her waist and the both of them began to put Vegas behind them for seventy-two hours.

The plane touched down in New Hampshire at three o'clock in the afternoon, when the sun was just beginning to slip down on the horizon. The warm rays from the sun caused the snow-encrusted ground to glisten, like it was covered in diamond. Sara got the sudden urge to make a snowball and see how far she could throw it.

God, she missed the snow.

When she stepped out of the airport into the crisp New England air, Sara felt invigorated, like she was coming home. In college, she'd enjoyed Boston thoroughly, finding the balance of culture and college perfect. Partying at MIT on Friday night followed by a Saturday at the Museum of Fine Arts. Sunday at Pete's Tea in Harvard Square with the homework she'd leave until the last minute.

She'd had friends from all over New England, and, having no real home to return to on holidays, many invitations had been extended to her. She'd spent Christmas in Portland, Maine; Thanksgiving in Vermont; Columbus vacation in Providence. She'd found New England charming and inviting, always more appealing than the bright lights and plastic facade of Vegas.

She took a deep breath, allowing the icy air into her lungs. She held up her arms and stretched. Grissom smiled at her as he popped the trunk of their rented Explorer. She looked to Gil, then to her bags and ran up to him, firmly planting her lips on his.

"What was that for?" He panted, extracting himself from her arms.

She smiled at him, turned and retrieved her bags. "Three minutes out of the airport and it's already amazing. You're amazing. This," She pointed to the ground once her bags were safely inside. "This is amazing."

"The pavement is amazing?" He deadpanned, having a little fun with her.

Sara shot him a look of hatred, but played around. "Oh, it's fantastic. So, concrete. Gil, shut up." She punched him in the shoulder and moved to her side of the car, clambering up into the seat. He took climbed in and sat back a moment, allowing himself to become accustomed with the air, the clean air.

She looked out the window as they pulled away from Manchester airport. "Hey, isn't President Bartlet from Manchester?" She asked, whipping her head around to face him.

"Uhhh," He began. "I think so. I do know he's from New Hampshire." Sara nodded and looked back out the window. As they got onto the highway, she admired the way in which the icicles hung to the jagged rocks that lined the road, the way the snow hugged the pines.

A new wave of vigor swept through Sara, and she placed her left hand on his thigh, her right fiddling with the radio. Her face contorted as she attempted to find a suitable station, she pushed a random button and the Rolling Stones filled the interior of the car. Gil shot her a glance. "You like the Stones?"

She raised a brow at him as she sang along. Apparently she couldn't get any satisfaction. He was beginning to think that he would need some soon, if she kept singing along the way she was.

"I didn't know that." He said softly, eyes focused on the winter road in front of them.

Sara smiled at him, placed her hand on his arm. "Don't take this the wrong way, but there are a lot of things you don't know about me." Gil looked at her, confused, just a bit, but smiled at her and returned back to the road.

"Then for the next few days, I intend to learn." Sara grinned and settled down in the seat for the duration of the ride.

---

The duo made good time from Manchester, and Grissom maneuvered the SUV up the steep driveway of the house cautiously. Sara hopped out and opened the garage, hugging the wall as he backed in halfway. They walked around and climbed up the embankment.

Grissom snatched the key, the antique skeleton key out from under a lamp and opened up the house. She stepped up and flicked on the light, taken by the charm of the interior.

"Well," He tossed the key down on the table. "It's quaint." He was incredibly unsure that she would like it.

She spun around, grinning wildly, stalking toward him. She fell loosely into his arms and looked up into his eyes. "It's warm, and quiet, and wonderful." Sara pecked him on the lips and pulled away. "Come on, we need to unpack."

She led them back down the frost-encrusted embankment and they unloaded the few bags that they had parked. Grissom had brought along a bag which he hadn't let her look in and she caught him placing it under the table on the sun porch. She eyed it, intrigued, but he caught her and moved her inside the house.

They set about unpacking the groceries that they'd picked up on the way through town. When they'd finished, they moved into the open living room and flopped down on the couch, looking out over the front lawn to the iced over lake.

Sara looked around the room, at the pictures hanging on the walls, the selection of board games next to the fireplace... the fireplace. Sara nudged Griss in the ribs, as he was about to doze off. "Hey, wanna be a manly man?" She posed to him.

"What?" He asked, wrapping his arms tighter around her. "I'm not already? I take offense to that."

"Care to build us a fire?" Maneuvering around in his arms, she straddled his lap, grinning at him. He traced the lines of her torso down to her hips, where they rested for a moment, before slipping under her shirt and stroking. She smiled and rubbed her nose slowly against his.

He grinned, his face nearly splitting with the glory of it. "And what do I get if I do?" He countered.

She sat back and brought her finger to her lips, mocking him. "Hmm, whatever could I give you?" She moved in and captured his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling on it before nipping and releasing him.

Grissom grinned again and then polled his eyes. "Well when you put it that way." He disappeared from the room, but returned minutes later with several logs and some kindling. She, curled up on the couch, looked on as he arranged the logs and lit the fire in the hearth, the kindling taking the flame and spreading it around.

"Mmm." Sara groaned and cracked the bones in her spine. "Bask in the pure glow of insanity."

Grissom furrowed his brow, wanting her to explain.

"This whole altered reality I'm living it. You, me, all the earth-shifty sex." She grinned at him as he stood before her, hands in his pockets. He rocked back on his heels.

"Earth-shifty?"

"Don't rag on my vocab just because you have a higher IQ than me." 'I can't believe I just admitted that.' She thought to herself. "But yes, this whole, being in love thing is kind of fantastic isn't it?"

He nodded and sat next to her on the couch. "Even after months I still get butterflies in my stomach when I touch you." She reached out to stroke his beard. "Like now." She whispered. "They're down there, flying around, waiting for you to make them go away."

He descended on her, pushing her back into the cushions of the sofa, covering her lips with his. "I didn't think I could love like this." She murmured when he'd taken siege of her neck.

"I didn't think I could love." He growled back, moving down her body. He looked up at her, his eyes dark, passion and love burning in them. "Now let's see what I can do about those butterflies." He rained soft kisses over the skin of her torso, slowly, pleasantly, until her fingers weaved into his hair tightly. His tongue, entering the equation, licked a circle around her navel and she rasped out a laugh.

He sat up quickly, and she let out an exasperated sigh. "Gotta lock up." Griss winked at her and she groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes.

Gil left the room and shut off the lights, locked the doors and flicked on the heat. When he returned to the room, Sara was naked, standing on a blanket in front of the fireplace.

"Feeling like shifting the earth a little Gil?"


	16. Eggs and Experiments

A/N: Well, the last chapter didn't get many reviews and I'm wondering if my maybe I should wrap this little joint up.

Oh, 'Sources' by CSINut214, good stuff. Everyone go read! I can't seem to make this chapter coherent because I can't stop reading her effin fic. Know what? This chapter is CRAP because of you! CRAP! ;-) Another brilliantly written story you have to read, 'City of Secrets' by Miss-Andromache. Fabulous, AMAZING Nick/OC story that is just BEGGING to be reviewed. Mel you're awesome.

SpinLizard, you lit my fire, doll.

Matthew, Matthew, Matthew, you are amazing, and you can bring the banter like none other. And Karen, thanks for the beta.

---

Sara awoke, warm and fuzzy in a large, plush bed. She poked her head out from under the down comforter, blinked a few times and became accustomed with her surroundings, taking in all the unfamiliar sights. She didn't remember getting into the bed, but there she was, amongst a sea of blankets, a warm mass to her left.

Sara hunkered down and flipped over, snuggling into his side. Humming low in her throat, she plastered herself to his body and felt just the slightest bit complete. Her eyes slipped closed once more and she drifted back to sleep for a few more hours.

The second time she awoke, her hair was completely askew, and her bedfellow was staring down at her with an intently amused look. He smoothed her hair down with a hesitant hand and she pressed up into it, like a cat being pet by its owner.

Grissom chuckled and threw his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him.

"Sara... Sara, Sara." Grissom breathed. "You're a snow princess in the middle of a desert." She looked at him as if he were crazy. "And yet you never seem to melt."

Astonished at his strange, yet oddly sweet and poetic words, she lay back on his arm. "My little snow princess." He muttered, dropping kisses in her hair.

"Hey!" She popped her head up, nearly taking off his nose in the process. He backed into the pillow and looked at her searchingly. "What's in the bag?" She poked him in the chest, and he caught her hand in his.

"All good things come to those who wait." Grissom said, pulling her back to him, but she wiggled out of his grasp, laughing the entire time.

"I've done my share of waiting!"

Grissom flipped over so he didn't have to look at her, glorious in the light of the morning. The light illuminated her from behind, casting a heavenly glow over her. She looked...angelic. "After breakfast, I promise."

Sara sighed resigned, and flipped her legs over the side of the bed, slipping her feet into her fluffy black slippers. She flopped back on the bed for a moment, eliciting a groan from Gil. "Come on!" He groaned again and batted at her. "Breakfast!" Sara bounced on the bed and he turned to glare at her.

She turned over and crawled the few feet to where he lay. Kissing him deeply, she pulled back and gave him a stern look. "Breakfast."

"Fine, fine." He acquiesced, and followed her out of bed and into the kitchen.

---

"Yellow." Sara said, moving the eggs around in the pan.

Grissom was seated at the kitchen table, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and tee shirt. Sara had made Grissom give her one of his shirts, and she was wearing nothing else but her slippers. He stared at her, perfection in her relaxation, and he brought his coffee mug to his lips to stop himself from attacking her with them.

"Which you wouldn't really think, because I never wear it, but yellow. What about you?" She threw over her shoulder, adding potatoes to the concoction in the sizzling pan. Griss nodded and smiled at her.

"Don't have a favorite color." He muttered into his cup.

"Figures." She responded. "Wait. No, that's not allowed. I demand you have a favorite color." She turned around to look at him. "...right now." She demanded unconvincingly.

Grissom didn't bother looking at her. "I can't tell you how convincing you aren't, standing there half naked, Sara."

Checking her attire, her glare became more pronounced. She used the spatula to reinforce her words. "Favorite color. Go." She shook the spatula almost threateningly, accentuating her point with a well-placed leer. It seemed almost comical.

Grissom fiddled with is coffee mug and pinned her with sharp eyes. "Purple. The first time I saw you in purple, it nearly undid me." He paused for a moment, waiting for her reply. "Happy?"

Licking her lips, undecided, her attention was turned back to the eggs. She pushed them around with her spatula. "Good, uh, good answer." The aroma from the eggs was getting to her and her stomach rumbled and turned over.

"You plan on finishing those this millennium?" Griss asked her as he passed by, making himself another cup of coffee.

Sara laughed bitterly. "Says the man who-" she cut herself off, thinking better of the words that almost poured out of her mouth. Sure, he'd waited, "Shut up." She quickly retorted.

Her companion laughed flatly. "For such a brilliant woman-"

"Continue with that statement and you'll be having your eggs out on the porch."

"Duly noted."

Shoveling food onto plates, Sara padded to the kitchen table, placing food down haphazardly, the plates making dull thunking noises on the thick oak. While bringing a fork to his mouth he smiled at her, silently sending thanks for breakfast for, for everything.

Sara smiled back at him until the full taste of her breakfast concoction registered on her palate, and her expression went sour. His became confused as he watched her face contort. Holding up a finger, staving off his words, she searched the refrigerator, returning from her excursion with a bottle of ketchup.

Grissom snatched the generic bottle from her hand, shaking it slowly. "Woman who takes after my own heart." He commented, sappily.

"You damn well better believe it."

He squirted some ketchup on his plate before handing the bottle to her. She made a small puddle on her plate and began toying with it, dragging her eggs though the mess slowly.

"The baaaaaaag..." She drew out, shoveling eggs into her mouth at light speed.

A tap sounded at her plate and she glanced down to see Grissom's fork assaulting the dish's surfaceware. "None of that. We'll eat, we'll digest and then, and only then will I divulge the mysteries of the bag."

"Mystery doesn't work for me."

Grissom pulled a piece of potatoes through his egg and tomato concoction. "Eat up, you'll need the energy." He spouted mysteriously. She pulled food to her mouth and chewed violently, desperately wanting to know what was in the damn bag.

"Myssstery bag." Sara drew out, finishing her eggs. True, she was giddier than she had ever been. She had been acting on impulse a lot more, now that she had Gil Grissom truly in her life. She'd begun to live for the moment and seize the day, living from Catherine's motto.

"Patience." He responded.

Sara grabbed the empty plates and moved them to the sink, deciding to wash them sooner, rather than later. Moving to help her, Griss took the clean dishes, dried them with a cloth and put them away.

She pulled her hair away from her neck and pulled it into a loose ponytail. Spontaneity never came easily to him, but the sight of her bare neck unraveled him. His lips fell upon the skin there, pulling lightly. Sara gave in, but then pushed him away.

He was confused, and advanced on her again. "Sara..."

"Uh uh!" She said. "Mystery bag." She pointed to the porch and he laughed. Throwing up his hands, giving in, retrieved the bag and set it on the table. Looking on, he nodded towards her and she opened up the bag with glee.

She looked at him expectantly. "Can we use 'em now?"

---

"I've never skated on a lake before. I mean, I took lessons for a few years, but that was indoors." Her feet were dangling over the edge of the wooden dock, waiting for Grissom to lace up his skates. He grunted a reply, pulling tightly on his laces. "And how come you get the hockey skates?"

She scissored her legs back and forth. They barely touched the ice, but were making lines in the light snow that had fallen the night before.

"Because," Grissom grunted again, successfully tying both skates. "Men don't wear figure skates unless they're figure skaters." He paused, shimmying over to sit beside her. "Plus, I already had these." He hopped experimentally off the dock and settled on the ice.

"You took lessons?" He asked as he moved around the ice, gathering his bearings. It had been years since he'd been on ice, but he figured it would be like riding a bicycle. He was half right. After stumbling a few times, he gained the proper balance and began moving about the glass-like surface with ease.

Sara's gloved hands fell to the snow at her sides, and she toyed with it as she answered. "Mmm, it was cheaper than softball." Ducking her head, she continued. "Mom thought I needed to learn some grace, so..."

Sensing that something was wrong, Gil stopped moving about and just looked at her. She picked her head up and visibly shook it off. "Later." She whispered, continuing with her story. He nodded. "Skated for about, oh, eight years? It was fun." Sara concluded, tossing a half-assed snowball at his head.

He ducked and grinned at her.

Sara paused for a moment, tilting her head much in the way he did when he was examining something. "You look handsome you know, standing there."

He did, wearing his own ski jacket, scarf pulled tightly around his neck. He was wearing his glasses and a few stray snowflakes had chosen to fall from the tree and find sanctuary in his beard. Gil looked at his skates and blushed. Sara laughed, seeing that she'd made him uneasy, and began scissoring her legs again.

"And you, my dear, don't look so bad yourself." He added, moving over to where she was seated on the cold wood. Sara laughed when he took her face in his gloves hands and pecked her on the nose.

"Betcha say that to all the girls." Sara winked.

"Actually, yes, I do." His face was so serious when he said it; Sara gasped incredulously around her smile and flicked some snow at him.

Gil took a few strokes across the lake and asked Sara to hand him the broom that he had brought. He swept away a large patch of snow and tossed the broom back onto the dock.

Sara continued to scissor her legs as she looked at him. "You're sure that this is safe?" His head tilted to the side, making him seem younger for a moment. She smiled hesitantly at him.

"Two consecutive weeks of below-freezing temperatures? I'd say we're fairly safe. Besides," He pointed across the lake, where a group of children were skating and having a snowball fight on the ice. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, expressing her obvious hesitance.

Lithely, Grissom skated over to her and held out his arms. "C'mere." He urged, placed his hands on her hips. Sara took a moment, then hopped to him, landing on the ice with a jolt.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Gil whispered to her, the icy wind lifting her hair away from her neck, the pink hat looking adorable nestled atop her head.

"Yes, yes it was." She mimicked what he had told her months before, when he had taken the risk of his life and kissed her. To his credit, he caught onto what she was thinking and held on tightly for a moment.

Pulling back, his lips collided with hers softly, slowly, and they stood on the ice, kissing languidly for a few moments. Sara pulled back, her face flush from the chill and his kiss. She looked like she belonged there, in the snow, the way her skin had flushed with light color in response to the cold, the way she wore her winter gear. "Let's see what my ice princess can do." He urged with a tip of his head.

"Oh no, this isn't going to become a permanent nickname is it?" She slipped her fingers through his and together they moved smoothly across the ice. Grissom stopped, spraying ice flecks in front of him. Shrugging, she skated off, moving around the ice gracefully.

Standing there, his hands in his pockets, he admired her. She twirled around quickly, bringing her legs tightly together, her hands over her head. Pulling out of the spin, she teetered, just slightly. "Whoa, forgot how dizzy that makes you." Regaining balance, she pulled back and did a little jump, a half-attempt of an axle. She landed it, sloppily, but smiled proudly.

"Impressive." He yelled, swiping snow from his beard. Just as he did, something landed against his back with a dull 'thunk'. He spun around, rather shakily in his skates, faced with three teenagers, standing fifty yards away. They laughed, but stood their ground. One of the girl's picked up another handful of snow and tossed it at him.

He looked back at Sara with a startled expression, but she just smiled and bent to grab some snow of her own. Winking at Gil she balled it up and rocketed it across the ice. One of the girls, one with an orange hat, stepped out of the way, allowing it to hit her male companion in the head.

All three of the women on the ice laughed, and Grissom just stood perplexed. "Come on." Sara urged, as if there was no other alternative to the situation but firing snow back at the kids.

The three on the opposing team began a rapid-fire strategy. Sara was quick to knock the snow down as it was thrown at her head. "Come on Griss... I thought you played baseball!"

Grissom ducked as a frozen ball was rocketed at his head. "That was twenty years ago and, oof!" He caught a ball in the chest. "Okay, that's it." He groaned and fired at the kids. They laughed and shot back, not hitting their target. Grissom too unleashed a laugh, giving into the childish game.

Fifteen minutes later, Sara had fallen down in the snow, Grissom's head was covered in snow, and their three adversaries were panting for mercy. Grissom gave in, and dropped the snow he had in his hand.

"Hey, sorry I hit your wife so hard, guess I don't know my own strength." The boy, Gavin, said, skating over to Sara's side. Grissom blushed and reached down to help her up. Sara too grinned, nearly laughing.

"She's uh-" Griss sputtered, grabbing her arm, then slipping his arm around her waist.

"I'm, I'm fine." Sara stated, gripping Grissom's bicep as she dusted herself off. The kids said goodbye and made their way back across the lake.

Sara surveyed her soaking clothes. "I'd say it's time we head inside." Gil nodded and ushered her back to the dock.

---

Three hours later, the duo had eaten, taken a shower (together, in the interest of saving water, of course) and sat drying on the big quilt in front of the fire.

He couldn't resist touching her hair. He wished, in his head, to pinpoint the exact texture of it, to see if he could put it into words, but it failed him. All his words failed him as she looked directly to him in the firelight, her cheeks red and glowing.

Sara felt an impulse and grabbed him behind the neck, kissing him hard. She panted against his lips, moisture forming on his top lip. She groaned, and moved to sit between his legs, bringing him as close as possible to her. "Grissom..." She groaned, as if he was holding back from her, but he wasn't. He was giving her everything in that moment and she was inflamed by the fervor with which he returned her gestures.

She kissed down his neck, backing off from his questing hands to perform a trek of her own. He hated giving up such control to her, to anyone. And she knew exactly what his surrender of control meant... and she cherished it. Grissom groaned when she nipped at his earlobe, but at that, he warded her off.

She, flushed, fell flat onto the thick quilt. "Griss! You let me get all hot and bothered, then you don't put out? Prude!" She said, irritated.

Gil glanced at her over his glasses as he moved from the darkened room. "You know Griss, this whole patience is a virtue thing is really wearing thin."

Grissom returned moments later with an armful of things. He lay them down on the blanket and sat back down, with a bit or trouble. Sara held up each product. "My, my, are we making... s'mores?" Sara asked, picking up a long handled barbecue fork, toying with the prongs.

"That we are my dear, if you still have room after that dinner." He captured her lips and quite literally seared her mouth with his tongue and the passion behind it. She hummed against his lips, tasting the remnants of dinner and his own personal taste. She groaned again, wondering if she tasted as good to him as he did to her.

He pulled back and grabbed the bottle of wine he'd been thoughtful enough to bring, and grabbed their glasses from dinner, swiping them with the tail of his shirt. His companion laughed, low and throaty and grabbed the wine bottle from in between his legs.

"Wine? With s'mores." Grissom paused and looked towards her, his face positively blank.

"Says there, that it's a dessert wine." Grissom deadpanned and Sara checked herself so she wouldn't laugh at his bad joke. "Well it was either this or caviar and hot chocolate. I took a chance."

"It's about damned time." Sara muttered, plying the cork from the bottle with the corkscrew he had been thoughtful enough to include in his bundle of goodies. Pouring two glasses, she took a large gulp of hers, and refilled it, nearing the brim of the glass.

She sat back, sweaty palms flat on the blanket. His brow broke out in sweat, but still, he struggled with the goodies, opening the bags and settling out the bounty before them.

Sara speared a marshmallow and inched forward on the quilt, sticking her treat into the fire. "I like 'em burnt." She said, facing the fire rather than him. Her tongue stuck out at the side of her mouth, her face a mask of concentration.

She pulled out the charred remnants of her sticky treat. Grinning, she flopped it down on a graham cracker. With precision, she added a fraction of chocolate. Balancing the morsel perfectly on her fork, she held it over the fire for a second. Pulling it out, she surveyed her work and slipped it off the hot metal and onto her hand.

"Try." She held it out to him as he was attempting to spear a marshmallow with his own fork.

Grissom quirked his lip and accepted her offer, taking the treat into her mouth for tasting. He bit down, flakes of the cracker falling to the blanket. Sara brought her hand up underneath his chin to catch the excess. He grinned around the sweetness, and moved into kiss her before he swallowed completely.

A lump of marshmallow was held back, and her tongue swept in and stole it away from him. She was about to pull away when he reached out and grasped her neck solidly, holding her mouth against his. As he swept his tongue against hers languidly, he began to muse.

'Gil Grissom, you're kissing the love of your life. Tell her she's the love of your life Gil. Do it. Tell her she's perfection in snow and fire."

Groaning despite himself, he fought the overwhelming urge to push her down onto the quilt and have his way with her. Before he could, she pulled away from him, huffing through thoroughly-kissed lips.

"Oh this is so forever." She muttered, her lips just against the rim of her cup, sipping the wine greedily.

He took the opportunity to take a large gulp of his wine. Spearing a puffed sugarball he held it into the fire, avoiding her eyes for a moment, gaining his composure. He waited until the marshmallow was golden brown and set it down in between two crackers and two slabs of chocolate.

He didn't bother toasting it again, instead bringing it to Sara's lips quickly. She smiled and opened her mouth, but he pulled it away, taking a bite from it himself. Sara pouted profusely, the wine taking directly to her head.

"What's with the teasing Griss?" She whined, her hand hard on his thigh. Bringing the glass to her lips, she changed expressions and grinned into the dark depths. 'Want to taste chocolate and wine?"

His eyes widened as she took a sip of her wine. She broke from the glass to grin at him, but then returned to the beverage, drinking until she could see the bottom of her glass.

Gil shook his head and offered her the treat he had created. She took it greedily, a sultry look playing over her face. Slowly she chewed, drawing out his anticipation until his palms literally itched to brush against her skin.

Carefully, with a cautious manner, she refilled her glass, then filling his back to the brim. She took a slow swallow, meeting his eyes as she did so. "Taste me." She demanded, flushing even more at her bold words.

"Where?" He asked, taking a last swallow from his glass before moving it out of harm's way. "Tell me what you want." He moved forward, snaking his tongue out to toy with her ear slowly, meticulously, breathing into it in the manner he knew would excite her. "What do you want me to do to you? What do you want me to make you feel?"

Sara lay down on the blanket, grabbing the collar of his shirt. He followed her, landing his lips on top of hers, kissing her languidly. "Just show me that you love me, okay?" Her voice was tiny, and for some reason, she was scared that she had pushed too far; he propped himself up on his elbows next to her and stroked her hair.

"You know I love you." He spoke, quietly too, looking deep into her eyes. He smiled softly at her, and stroked her hair once more. "And it hurts, so much, in a wonderful, wonderful way."

Sara's eyes fell. She felt embarrassed letting her insecurities get the best of her in that moment. "I'm sorry, I just, I just..."

Gil cut her off with a kiss, moving his hand to stroke over the skin of her stomach. He splayed his hand out, holding her down, and his other hand shimmied the material of his shirt over her skin until it was off. Smacking a wet kiss on her collarbone that made her chuckle, he continued the path down to her stomach, where he took up kissing her leisurely as he tried to remove her of her pants.

"I'm uh, uh I'm just gonna keep saying it okay? I just, I just need to keep saying it." Sara whispered quickly, and Grissom stopped in his mission to glance up at her, brows furrowed.

"Love you, I love you Gil Grissom. I love you. All of you. Every damn inch of you, inside and out." She reached out to touch his shoulder, crooked her finger at him. She needed to kiss him, she wasn't sure why but she needed to kiss him. And she did, thoroughly; she kissed his lips until the need for oxygen caused her to pull back and attach to his neck. She kissed his chest after she had rid him of his shirt; she kissed his hipbone after deftly maneuvering him free of his pants.

She settled down over him with her mouth; hot, wet, wet, and he objected. "Honey, you know you don't have to-"

"Every inch of you Gil Grissom, I love every inch." Sara managed to cut him off, returning to the task she had set before her. Gil's head thunked back on the floor and he thought about all of the amazing sensations she had managed to open his eyes to. Before, he'd never truly been able to give over to the act she was performing; it was too weak, to impersonal, to... unleashed. But she had opened her eyes to how passionate it was, how trusting, how... loving.

Tearing her mouth away from him, she clambered back up on top of him, settling over his hips. "Can we talk tomorrow?" She asked, quickly.

Grissom made a move to get up but she put a hand to his chest. "We can talk now honey, I don't want to push you with this-"

Sara laughed at the way he was stumbling over his words. "No, no. I want you right here, right now. We can talk tomorrow?"

"Okay." Gil sighed, closing his eyes. "Love you?"

She sank down upon him, and paused for a moment. Leaning over to kiss him, she latched onto his bottom lip as she moved, possessively, with him inside of her.

Possession, yes, he had possessed her and she him, and damned if they were going to exorcise that demon.


	17. Bent, Not Broken

A/N: I needed a ton and a half of help with this. I had such intense writer's block and all of my love and thanks goes out to Matthew, who really just... took a sledgehammer to my head. Also thankies to Lauren and Joan for the buckets o' help.

---

It was entirely too early when they awoke, the wine's slow burn a low fire in their systems that both poetically lulled them and prosaically woke them to empty their bladders. Waking for the third and final time at a horrendous six o'clock, they took full advantage of the lack of screaming daylight to make love slowly in the dark.

It was a game. In his head, he pictured the look that she wore on his face, and she would grace him with a nip on the ear if he was able to guess what she wanted him to do next.

Her moans, for good reason, came slower this morning, somehow louder in the silent predawn firelight. His senses were heightened, and he explored her, a man returning to a forgotten country. He wondered at her reaction, noted it, but resisted the need to analyze. That would come in its own time.... He swore that he could smell her more clearly, could honestly say that the firelight had softened her skin. He knew it was impossible, but it was a nice thought none-the-less.

The couple dragged themselves, in liquid fashion, from the bed two hours later, having sated each other's passion to their fullest potential.

Foregoing Grissom's dress shirt that she had favored the morning previous, she pulled on a pair of fuzzy blue pajamas, covered in thick, white snowflakes. Grissom's heartstrings panged with how beautiful she looked, innocent, sleepy and sated. So simple, amazingly how simple she was and how that stark lucidity, that amazing banality seemed to accentuate every feature.

Gil rebuked himself; Sara Sidle was turning him into a poet... of sorts.

He took it upon himself to make breakfast, telling her that it was his duty to then outdo her wonderful culinary genius of the day before. Sara had grabbed his ass then, making him jump and drop the spatula he'd bent to retrieve. "Go ahead, pretend like you're not impressed."

Full and throaty, he'd laughed and set about making homefries. He'd followed that with toast, pancakes, foregoing the bacon as he normally would have made. They'd eaten the morning banquet off of one large plate, the two of them huddled over a corner of the kitchen table, eating and kissing.

He, telling her to relax, had cleared the dishes and ushered them into the plush living room, where they had settled a distance apart from each other on the couch, each nursing a mug of hot tea. They'd sipped in silence for a good time, before Gil realized that she was staring into her mug's depths, her brow wrinkled, as if she were attempting to decipher the Rosetta Stone.

"Honey?" He pried, very, very lightly.

Her head snapped up and a ghost of a smile flitted across her face, sad and sweet. "Just thinking."

"I don't have a penny, but would you settle for..." He patted his pockets and came up empty. "Me? Listening... that is?"

Sara smiled in spite of her dour thoughts. "I said I wanted to talk... I don't know now. Maybe we should get back to Vegas." She waited for him to press her into speaking but he didn't, just nodded. Sara, for her part, was shocked; he'd been the only person not really wanting, not really needing to know.

But she wanted him to, she needed him to know about her past or she wouldn't be able to begin building a new future. "It's just... better to get it out of the way from the beginning really. It explains," Sara paused, rephrasing what she has been about to say. "I think it explains... some of why I am... the way I am."

Gil sat back, assuming his 'listening' posture, denoting that he was along for the ride. Sara sighed, bit her lip hard, and began.

"Jeffery, I'll begin there..." Sara trailed off and cringed, the images slamming against her eyes full force, squeezing out all the light.

"Jeff," She sniffled, smiling brightly. "Jeff, my brother, he's five years older than me... anyway, Jeff was... what my parent's referred to as their 'tornado'. He'd never sit down long enough to let anyone know what was going on. There was this one point..." Her voice was thick as she attempted to remember everything and voice it all at once.

"There was one time, he got so high that he'd jumped off the roof of the pool house, thought he could fly. I'm getting ahead of myself." Back peddling mentally, she sipped from her mug, thinking that the soothing warmth from the tea could quell some of her angst.

"I was ten and, my parent's, they left. Not left... no, they went away." Sara nodded, making an attempt to hold Gil's gaze for longer than a second. "And they, they left me with Anthony." Her eyes slipped closed and she heaved out another cleansing sigh.

"If it gets too hard. Stop." Gil said quietly, not wanting to break her concentration if it was her desire to continue.

"Mmm." Sara mumbled, but the words came easier and sluiced from her lips in pain. "Everyone... we all assumed that he was homosexual. His gentlemen "friends", as mom said, were always coming by to buy my scout cookies. And they were nice, I mean, as little as I saw of them, they were very... very normal, amicable people. And that's how Tony was."

"I remember, clear as day, what he'd said to me, he said: 'Bunny, do you like puzzles?' They called me Bunny for obvious reasons." She pointed to her two front teeth and blushed, despite the intensity of her words.

"And I nodded, I loved them, especially the thousand piece ones of habitats. I'd glue them and hang them in my room." She shook her head at the silly habit and he smiled, warm and sad. "He knew I liked puzzles, he knew but he asked anyway. He was trying to make me feel safe, but there wasn't any need. I'd known Tony forever. I'd played in his backyard, met his "friends". He'd even taken Jeff and I to the peir once for snow cones. He didn't need to make me feel safe."

"But he asked. 'Do you like puzzles, bun bun?' I'd nodded again and he'd moved towards me, I was sitting on the couch... I think. I know he touched my thigh, clamped down hard and looked me in the eye. 'Because boys and girls are puzzles. There are pieces that fit together.' I was young, but I was smart, I'd skipped two grades and I knew, I knew what he was getting at. He'd told me to look at him but I said no and squirmed away, I wanted to find the sheet of paper with the emergency numbers on it. My nana would come and get me, I knew she would. I didn't like that he'd mangled my name either, he wasn't aloud to do that. My father had given me that name and it wasn't his to toy with."

Sara paused in her words long enough to gulp from her mug and squeeze out a tear or two. Breathing hard, she sat back on the couch and clamped her hands between her knees. "Do you, do you want me to sit with you Sara?" Gil asked cautiously, knowing that even though he was offering support, that she could react in entirely the wrong way.

She shook her head, and looked at her hands. "I told him my nana should come get me because I didn't want to play. But he pinned me down, there where were sitting. He told me we were going to take a nap, that a nap would be good but I told him I wasn't tired. Told him again I wanted to see my grandmother.

"But he took me to my parent's room, carried me to the room. And I don't know why I wasn't kicking and screaming, but I wasn't. I let him take me there and I shouldn't have." Sara spit out the next words quickly, with a thickness to her voice. "And he put me down and he said I shouldn't have..."

Gil's insides were turning violently, as he tried to make no attempt to show emotion. "Clothes were ripped and..."

"After... after, he told me he was sorry. he didn't have any choice, it was me. He told me it was me that made him act that way, that made him... that made him act that way. I've seen a lot since then. Horrible things... I know he didn't do everything he could have. But he did enough." She cried, not moving, not sobbing, just tears washing down.

"No, Sara. he did too much. And it wasn't your fault."

"I know that!"

"You do, but at some point, you'll have to believe it."

Sara's eyes slid to meet his slowly. "Mom came home." She resumed coldly, finding it infinitely harder to discuss the details that followed. "And I told her what happened... and for awhile she didn't do anything. For a week... I thought she'd forgotten I'd told her. But the next week, I told her that I hurt, I was hurting when I had to go to the bathroom... and she hit me. Her eyes were so red when she did. She must have been tired... or stressed. But they were watering when she hit me. And then she didn't stop. Jeff was gone and it was my fault. I wanted attention, and how could I say such hateful things about Tony.

"Dad, he uh, he never said anything. But he'd, he'd let me cry to him. And he, he didn't hit me when I cried so... but mom, she uh, made it clear that Tony wasn't to be mentioned, and neither was Jeff." Blowing a quick breath through her cracked lips, she continued. "But then he cam home and... he loved me. He did. He was a great brother, overprotective, kinda like... kinda like Nick."

Grissom smiled slowly, remembering just how possessive Nick got around Sara. It was nice to hear that her true brother cared about her that much. However, it didn't escape him that she had suggested that she and Nick were closer than she and Jeff were.

"Yeah, he'd gotten past his 'rebel phase' and came back. Missed us, he'd said as soon as he walked in. Then he asked why my nose was bleeding and I spilled, I had to. Next thing I knew he and dad were talking heatedly about Anthony... and... well, I don't know if my mother ever really believed me. I know my father did after that. Thanks to Jeff. I knew it when he put Tony through the plate glass down the side of the hill. Eighteen months for assault, but he never said a word to me. That was my first taste of social services. I didn't much care for it. Jeff tried to take me but he has a prior for possession of marijuana and..." Creasing her brow, she fiddled with the hem of her shirt before finishing.

"Mom didn't stop hitting me until... maybe... I was... fifteen? Sixteen? I don't remember, but dad talked her into counseling. It wasn't like she randomly beat me. She loved me, and I knew she did. She told me all the time. But her fuse was too short and I never knew when it might be burning. But yeah, the counseling... and she got better, she did.

"I uh, well, Tony never went to jail, but he moved away. Last I heard he was in Houston, moved there with his boyfriend."

Grissom's palms were sweaty and he wiped them off on his jeans. "Sara, if you-"

"I don't need counseling and I don't need to talk to my parents. I just needed to... tell you. Before anything went any further." She felt over-exposed and weak for a moment. "I didn't want to be..."

That was it, Sara Sidle had suddenly become rather pessimistic, truly wondering if their relationship had progressed as far as it was going to.

"Sara?"

"It's one of those things that you have to know about from the outset... so you know... whether you really want to proceed." She explained slowly, motioning with her hands. "Or not." Not, not, not, they might not proceed, he might tell you he doesn't want you after this Sidle, are you ready to handle this? She mentally slapped herself, telling her brain to quiet down, that it wasn't as dire as she always made it seem.

"Proceed?"

"With... whatever this-" She flapped her hand violently back and forth between them. "Is. With what we are."

"What are we Sara?" He asked quietly, slowly. He didn't want to assume that they were anything more than she said they were. They weren't friends, and for some reason he knew they weren't lovers. They were something more, something somewhere out in left field.

She really, she honestly didn't know. "I don't know."

"What do you know about this?" He asked, so, so gently. He wasn't asking for his knowledge, he was asking so that she would understand, for herself.

"I know, I know that... I love you." She said, happiness coursing through her words just as she said them.

"Then that's all that matters." He got up from the couch then, inching closer to her when she smiled up at him. "What I'm feeling Sara, what I know to be true now wouldn't have changed if you'd told me that story years from now. And now that you've told me, I can't help but find even more wonder in your strength."

She kissed him shortly on the mouth, and he pulled back, his arm snuggly around her, grinning like a complete and utter fool.

"And you, Sara Sidle, are my little indestructible ice princess." He whispered, his forehead to hers, and they grinned before once more falling into a fit of easy kisses.


	18. Nouns and Verbs

A/N: I'm trying very hard not to go completely DARK on this piece. I'm trying! And forgive me if I don't update regularly, okay? Spring semester starts Tuesday so...

---

"Fecund, thirty-six." A squeal echoed through the small house as Sara launched herself across the board to grab the maroon satchel. "Triple word, baby." She gloated, thrusting her hand deep into the bag, retrieving the requisite amount of tiles.

Grissom pressed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and acknowledged her play. "Fecund, good word." His voice was cool as his downcast eyes surveyed the tiles he had to work with. A grin spread across his face a moment later, laying his word with a flourish onto the plastic board. "Frighten." He said with pomp, and counted out his score. "Now let's see..." He drew out the torture, enjoying her pout at his exquisite play.

"That's fourteen... double word, twenty-eight, plus fifty for using all of my tiles..." Grissom licked his lips and gained a particular satisfaction writing down his score and announcing it, right in her face. "That's seventy-eight points, with one word."

Sara's pout extended a bit more when she came to the realization that he was beating her by more than fifty points. Sara Sidle was surely not a quitter, but she didn't see herself coming back from the literary bomb that he had just laid. Still, she pressed forward, laying down 'qat' on a triple letter score, gaining herself thirty-two points total. The somber mask on her face lifted as she smirked at him evilly.

"That's fine, because that was thirty plus..." She leaned into him, breathing on his neck. "With three letters. Who says bigger is better?"

Grissom chuckled throatily and pushed her back into an upright sitting position. She was not going to cajole him out of winning Scrabble. "Reduced to clichés! Ms. Sidle, look at what you're resorting to! Petty torment to attempt to throw me off track." Gil surveyed his letters with a furrowed brow. "But I will have you know my dear, my prowess cannot simply be thwarted by a delectable woman throwing herself at me."

His fingers moved the tiles around on his placard, but he took a moment to glance in her direction and was rewarded with a shy grin, pink creeping up on her cheeks. "Lovely." He whispered, eyes never leaving hers, as he placed another word down into the grooved spots on the board.

Sara's grin broke when he put 'spry' down where she was planning to build 'sprat.' "Hey! You saw my tiles!" She accused, leaning over to attempt to sneak a peek at his. He pulled his behind him and stared her down.

"I wouldn't dare cheat, now suck it up." His head nodded in her direction and she settled back, pushing the little wooden letters around with no measure of satisfaction. Tension hung in the air as he pondered what she could possibly lay down that would gain her any semblance of points.

"Thanks for listening earlier. I uh, I..." Avoiding making eye contact with him, she traced the letter 'L' with her finger, over and over.

Gil shifted his position on the floor, causing her to break from her tracing exercise, catching his eyes quickly. "Sara, you need to... I'm here for you. No matter what." A meaningful glance was sent her way and received wholeheartedly. "Now stop stalling, and let me commence with my ass kicking." He lightened his words with a wink and settled back against the television cabinet to sip his wine.

"See, Grissom, that's what we call a jinx. And you, my friend, have just laid a large jinx over this game. It's inevitable now." Sara stated

"What's inevitable?" He shot back at her, hoping to catch her in her own jinx.

She smiled wearily at him and sighed. "Oh, Gil. You think I'm so simple. I just... need you to know..." Sara trailed off, grabbing the canvas bag from his outstretched hand. "You're. Going. Down."

A sudden vision of Sara, spread before him, his tongue doing quite inappropriate things, slammed between his temples and he sputtered though a sip of merlot. He longed to taste her then, in that instant, the image so fresh and hot, just burning in his mind.

Gil fixed her with an indecent smirk and muttered, "Later." Sara, for her part, simply ducked out of his range of vision, blushing wildly, a white hot bolt of longing traveling down her spine. Sara licked her lips and turned her attention whole-heartedly to the random smattering of letters before her.

Pondering, she took moments to think out a perfect word, a word that would win her back the lead. Gil watched as her face passed through dozens of contortions. Minutes later, he finally erupted with a plea of "Oh, for Christ's sake, are you gonna make your move?" He immediately regretted the words that slipped from his mouth.

"A: I thought I already did, or perhaps this is all an elaborate scheme that my mind has created to cope with the stresses of loving you..." Sara laughed loudly, fully, completely, and took a large sip of her wine. "B:... Patience is a damn virtue, one which you seem to lack." Sara's eyes scaled him up and down. "Which is strange because you don't seem to lack much."

It was Grissom's turn to "almost" blush and turn to his pieces.

Sara's fingers tapped on the floor, next to her wine glass, thinking out her word. A slow smile spread across her face, deliberate and oh so evil. Each tile was placed into its correct spot with an air of dominance and Grissom nearly winced when he saw her word spelled out.

"Vellum." Sara drew out, her voice dripping with literary seduction. "I believe that would be... oh..." She counted for a moment. "Double word, double letter..." She laughed at his obvious discomfort. "Thirty."

"Vellum." Grissom repeated, rolling the word around on his tongue. For some reason, it sparked something within him.

"Yes." Sara stated, glass in hand, the dark liquid rolling back and forth languidly, moving slowly as did her words. "It's parchment made from the skins of an animal, most commonly calf skin." Gil watched her mouth form the words. "Most medieval illuminated texts are on... vellum."

"Impressive." He retorted, shoving his tiles out of the way in order to shift over on the floor, sliding up next to her. She was utterly confused and looked from the blue letter-holder, up into his blue eyes. "And I know what vellum means."

"But, we're not done."

He slid his arm around her waist, but it did not placate her. "How about we say... you win... because, I want to know more about you... right now. I have this strange compulsion to know every fiber of Sara Sidle." A brilliant smile graced his face, while Sara's fell, confusion contorting her face, her eyes holding a hint of mirth.

"Gil, it doesn't work like that."

"Hmm, yes it does."

Sara licked her lips and found a particular deep comfort settling into her bones when he pressed her head into his shoulder. "Oh really now?"

"Oh yes, because I say so. And stop telling me how things do and don't work. There aren't set guidelines Sara, I like to play by my own rules."

She shifted her head and kissed him softly, relaxation flooding through her. "Then so do I." Clasping his large hand in her small, delicate one, she pulled him to his feet and led him into the plush, but yet quaint bedroom. He, for one, was incredibly confused.

Sara slipped between the cool covers, clothes and all, the room illuminated only by the fading light from the outside. Grissom was suddenly startled by the overwhelming scent of pine and her, just pine forest and his Sara, in their temporary bed. And the whiff undid him, just a little, spurring him to slide between the sheets with her, staring directly into her eyes, knee to knee.

"Where to begin..." Sara drew out, tracing his jaw line slowly, lost in thought. "Well, how about I begin with the present..." Trailing her fingers slowly through his facial hair she murmured, "I love your beard, I like feeling it against my thighs." Gil smiled and licked his lips, not touching her with his hands, knowing if he did, that their conversation would come to a screeching halt. "But since this is about me... I'm addicted to 'Will and Grace', don't ever tell anyone that," But she was sure he'd never heard of it. "And I'm really allergic to bees."

Eyes glinted in the semi-darkness at the mention of bees and she chuckled, placing her startlingly warm palm on his forearm, silently telling him that it was all about quid-pro-quo.

"I hate, I detest, can't stand country music."

Walking her fingers up his arm, she thought. "I am... addicted to running. And marinara sauce, tofu, caramel and... Jagged Ice Powerade."

Grissom's brow shot up at her random addictions. "Jagged Ice?"

"Yeah it's better than Gatorade. Turns your mouth blue though." She stuck out her tongue and him and giggled, sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine to settle in his brain.

"Hmm, my friends in school used to call me Bert, instead of Gil, which I hated." Sara suddenly lunged over out of nowhere and kissed him thoroughly, knocking the wind from his lungs. She then rolled back into place, across the pillow from him.

Sara retorted quickly with. "My mother wanted to name me after a flower. She was a hippy, said she knew I'd grow like a weed, but couldn't think of any flattering names in that department." Pausing to let Grissom laugh a bit, she continued. "I almost ended up Daisy... and Rose and, sadly enough, Tulip." Gil's face twisted with amusement at the last name she gave. "Okay, okay, I did mention she was a hippy. She was probably heavy into the grass when she came up with that one." She grumbled on about her brother being nearly named 'Rock' and allowed silence to overtake them, awaiting his turn.

Grumbling sufficed as an answer for a moment before his brain confirmed a good answer. "I was an all-star pitcher for three years in high school." He thought for a second and added, "And my senior year I broke Christopher Barbati's nose when I saw him hitting his girlfriend."

"Knight in armor." Sara said, stroking his cheek, and he was taken aback for a moment, to what Catherine had said of him months before.

"You scare me Sara..." Grissom trailed off, moving quickly to nudge her hair with his nose, abating her fears. Her eyes questioned him, 'why'. "You scare me because I don't know what you want, I don't know if I should know what you want."

She was quick to reply, her hands around his neck. "I have what I want."

Grissom was immediate to respond. "Even when I look at you, somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm thinking about a case, about the most recent DB."

"You think I don't?" She responded quickly. "My work is my life, but I know how to make room for you. I want you. I want you to be my life." She grinned at him broadly. "I can fit you in, wedge you in… between jogging and eating. Maybe I can get rid of the sleeping." She winked at him. "I want you in my life."

'You think that now.' He wanted to say, but didn't. Why couldn't he simply trust her words? That couldn't be right, that couldn't be part of this 'perfection' he kept waxing on about. "But... for how long, how deep, how far? Do you want me to put a ring on your finger? Am I obligated to do something like that? Do you want me with you every night, should we move in together? Are we ever... will we ever..."

"Whatever you're willing to give to me, I'll take. And if you can't give anything more, now will suffice. Forever." Reassuring, her finger traced over the years of worry lines on his face. So weathered, so very, very broken and yet she still wanted him, completely... totally. Would live from the very scraps of him if she had to... and he simply couldn't understand it. He doubted he ever would. He had to turn away from the glory he saw in her face.

Something cracked inside of him, and he wasn't quite as afraid of her as he was the day before, the week before, the month before. "Polar opposites Sara, polar god damned opposites, you and I. Perfect." It was so sad, the bliss he felt, so completely out of place for his usual self. "What's better than perfect?" He mused, turning to her, clasping her hand hard in his. "You know when everything is so right that you just know something's wrong? I mean, it has to be because everything is in sync, in harmony? That's how this is."

"I can't dream of anything better than spending a life with just your imperfections." She said, knowing that taken out of context, the words would be hurtful. But, as always, as she expected, as she hoped, he understood.

He didn't understand it. He knew, he knew he never would, and for once, he was okay with that.

---

Sara sat on the floor, legs crossed, indian style, book in hand. She'd been lost in its pages for nearly an hour and Grissom had taken her silent presence as adequate company. He was bookless, shoeless, sitting on the couch, staring at the fire.

They hadn't let it truly die since they had come to the cabin a day and a half before.

The hiss and crackle of the fire followed the slow 'swish' of another turned page. Gil made no move to glance at her, his eyes instead completely transfixed on the flames, the way they'd settle and then suddenly leap and lick the charred bricks enclosing them.

And a vision pounded between his eyes suddenly. Well, not a vision, more of a flash of intense color, and Grissom saw, as clear as day...

"Lilly." Gil stated spontaneously, clearly, not removing his eyes from the fireplace when his vision faded. Sara's attention was pulled from the pages and she cocked her head at him, upside down, staring up at him from the floor.

"What?"

His eyes looked to hers, completely blank, and he returned to staring. "I said... Lilly." His voice was quieter this time, reverent almost, perhaps unsure.

Hair falling in front of her face, she shook her head, still rather confused. She looked on as Gil gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down slowly, seductively, a few times. "I don't..."

"You don't know?" Sara posed.

"I don't think you'll feel comfortable with me verbalizing this particular thought."

Sara's eyes shot to the closed Scrabble box and fleetingly wished she had thought to play the word 'verb' earlier. Grissom saw her glance and smirked, knowing that his comment wouldn't go forgotten, even at the thought of such a delicious play.

"Gil," She returned to his intense gaze. "If you don't feel comfortable with telling me things then maybe-"

"A little girl, with your eyes and my wit."

Sara's brow was still knitted in confusion, vestiges of the book she had been indulgencing in fleeting from her mind in an instant as the implication of his words settled in her mind.

"Lilly." Grissom clarified steadily. His eyes returned to the flames raging, so very, very passionate.


	19. Directionality Obscured

**Thanks: I know that reviewing kinda went screwy when Stalemate was taken down... but I need to thank the loyal ones, the ones who keep coming back. I'm trying so hard not to disappoint. I also need to thank the people I've had the pleasure of speaking with, the pleasure of meeting, the pleasure of sharing ideas with. You guys really keep me completely going: Lauren (CSINut214, amazing, talking to such a fantastic writer), Lauren, Holly, Mel and Sheila. **

**And everyone else! Feel free to IM me! I'm BNLXPhile12... but only after you review!**

**Go read GraveDigger Ressurrection's ficcie "New Ground." Fabulous, I tell you, fabulous.**

---

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that her breath was caught in her throat. It was. Stuck there, held there by the muscles of her throat, constriction of her lungs. This, if anything, would be a prime example of how to drop a verbal bombshell.

She saw it explode in her head, fire whipping out to lick at the crevices of her mind. It was pleasant and painful all at the same time and she was torn between which emotion to pursue.

If she was hoping he would give her a sign the night before... he was sure giving her one now. "Just... so we're clear..." Sara dropped her book down beside her and swiveled around to face him. "You're referring to... a child." Sara spoke slowly and clearly, allowing the words to sink in, for the both of them.

Grissom spoke logically, as he would when giving someone a random piece of Griss-wisdom. "I told you, you wouldn't want to hear it." And he shrugged, and, heart cracking, fissions forming, he turned his eyes out the window, at the snow-covered lake.

Perhaps he had wished for too much. Perhaps he wanted more than she did. After all, from his pessimistic viewpoint, it was damn well bound to happen sometime. His peaceful little, oh-so-close-to-bliss bubble would pop, leaving nothing but residue in its wake.

Gil Grissom find it peacefully warm, standing that close to complete happiness, but the whole too-good-to-be-true nuances turned out to be just that.

Palms against the floor, she pushed herself up to stand. Depositing herself down next to him on the sofa, curling her body around his, comfortably. "Never said that." She spoke, kissing his neck slowly, leading her lips up to his ear. "Never said that." She repeated, and Grissom turned stoically to face her.

In that moment, her eyes were darker than he had ever seen them, and he was depressed to find that he had yet to find out what that meant. So much he didn't know about her, so much he wanted, needed to know. And he was fickle enough, to believe that he would have a lifetime to learn.

Smiling brightly, he regarded her coolly, taking his time to survey her posture. "Never… is...?" Gil trailed off, wanting more than anything to kiss her neck just as she had done with his.

"Never is, too final. Let's say... the topic is up for discussion, but, hopefully not in the near future." Kissing his ear softly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him, nearly into submission. The warm, fuzzy feeling settled back into his stomach and he sighed. Perhaps this was false, the emotions he was feeling. Maybe, just maybe…

Grasping her hand, and stroking his thumb over her knuckles, he contemplated just what he wanted to say. "Biology isn't on my side Sara. I'm not getting any younger."

"Mmm." She kissed his neck again and straddled his waist, much to his growing confusion. Sara's hands framed his face, and he, brow knitted, looked up to her for an explanation. "I'm not saying years Griss, I'm just saying not tomorrow, not next week. But I'm not so sure that you realize what this means, as stupid as this sounds... it really isn't a decision you can go back on." She meant for it to come out lightly, but her brain processed the seriousness of the comment and made it come out sounding so.

The backs of her hands softened over the worry lines of his face as he watched her, sitting atop him, so innocent looking. "I know that." Swallowing desperately, hoping that his admission was as important to her as it was to him. "I just need you to know..."

Anticipation wetted her lips in the form of her tongue as she waited on his words. "I don't... need children. It's not necessary. But you're the only person I'd consider... helping me in that... particular... department."

As much as she tried to hold it in, Sara's eyes widened. Gil Grissom was not a stark and frank man, and what he had told her was quite possibly the largest overall admission he had ever uttered, straight after the whole 'I love you' thing. Oh yes, this ran a very close second. Nose and nose at the finish line...

Sara attempted to lighten the mood. She knew if she didn't, she'd end up blubbering like a baby (baby again, child, children) all over his chest. "You say that now, but I'm the one who'll end up cleaning and feeding it." Grinning, she punched him on the shoulder, and his face broke.

"Sara, I... love you." And her heart fell at the expression he wore from her lame attempt to lift the tension. "I probably don't say it enough. But, I do, and it's only a big deal because, I never have with... anyone before. Loved." His voice cracked a tiny, tiny bit. "Anyone."

Thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, and she smiled sadly, leaning in to land her lips on his. "I have loved before Griss." Confusion overtook the hurt that he wore as a mask. "For ten, god, ten odd years with you. I'm a pro."

Sara wasn't quite sure she'd ever seen him look quite so torn before. Torn between being bashful and guilty.

Taking his hand in hers, in a rare show of complete submission, she placed his open palm against her heart. But he stared at her eyes, not their hands. "And I'm blessed that you would want any of that bliss with me. I'm simply saying... just, not tomorrow."

Gil nodded, apparently letting the issue go. Sara smiled and her body went boneless, falling down against his chest. Protectively, as always, he arm came up to hold her securely to him. Lips falling to his neck, she inhaled deeply, savoring the scent that made her head go light with euphoria. "And I do want to carry your baby." She whispered.

His sharp intake of breath startled her.

"But it scares me. I just need some time." Sara finished, lips dancing over is neck lightly.

Gil smiled, understanding. It was his turn to lift the tension. "Maybe you can buy me a new watch, hon."

---

"What is it about the top kernels? I don't get it." Sara mentioned, holding a few kernels of popcorn between buttery and salty fingers. Her mouth caught them as she tossed them in that general direction. "They're always the best. So warm." She smiled at a tiny yellow kernel. "So buttery."

Her voice had taken on the cadence and tone of a child, she was giddy beyond belief. He rolled his eyes at her and snatched the bowl, resulting in her face falling into a pout. "Shut up and watch the movie." He said good-naturedly, popping some kernels into his mouth.

"'It puts the lotion in the basket, it does this whenever it's told.'" Sara quoted, directly into his ear. Gil shoved her with his arm.

"Would you stop that? You know how I hate that." He turned his attention to the buttery snack at his disposal and shoved a large handful into his mouth. He crunched loudly in her ear, knowing just how much it eat at her soul. She shoved him back and he slipped his arm around her good-naturedly.

A lull settled over them as they watched the scene unfold before them-for what would be for both of them-about the twentieth time.

"'Sa classic." He had muttered, pulling themselves stickily off of each other. They taken only enough time to throw on underwear and shirts and had shifted into the living room, collapsing sated onto the couch. It hadn't taken her long to slip into automatic quoting mode. As a person so attentive to details, she could mimic every intonation in the character's voice, move as they did.

Grissom was impressed, that is until it became increasingly annoying. This was not a detail that passed by Sara, she was going to milk it for all it was worth. She chose this particular avenue because when she got Gil agitated, he generally unhinged a bit more in bed, more feral, animalistic. And from time to time, yes that excited her. Even then, after making love to him slowly for the better part of three hours, she still had enough energy stored up to take him again, fast and hard.

But, at his near catatonic state, eyes glued to the television, she settled in for a night of basic relaxation, hopefully to be followed by a vicious romp that would leave her sore in the morning. Sara was in need of one of those; the kind of coupling that left you with a constant reminder settled in your muscles.

The kind of sex that lingered.

She couldn't remember a time when she had been quite so antsy to have him. And there he was, just perched beside her, watching Anthony Hopkins fuck with Jodie Foster's head. True, she loved the movie, but she loved Gil more and all she needed to do was-

"You gonna stare at me all night or are you gonna get on with it." He quipped, placing the popcorn bowl on the floor to stare her down. A familiar blush crept up her chest and deposited itself in her cheeks. She licked her lips and looked towards her lap, amused, thoroughly.

Busted.

"This is a DVD, I can pause it Sara." He said, shoving her harshly back on the couch, settling quickly between her thighs. "Pause it gladly." He growled into her mouth before slipping his tongue inside to wrestle with hers. They were half on the couch, half off, and Grissom slid a hand beneath her thighs to toss her up on it properly.

Stomach fluttering as he did so, Sara was astounded with how aroused she became when he was so reckless, so passionate… all for her.

Sara knew that sighing would break the mood for her, a sigh was too delicate for the situation at hand; so she moaned, low deep and throatily and Grissom attacked the place from which it came, her neck. "So good like this." She hiccoughed, as he placed his tongue on her jugular, licking, then sucking, then biting.

"Always good." He murmured back, not happy that he had to take his lips partially off of her skin to say it. Nails dug painfully into his arms, and his only response was to bite down harder on her skin, the hairs of his beard sending tiny pinpricks of pain coursing through her. She loved it.

His hands skated down her sides, just grazing her where she wanted them. He decided, in fact, to ignored her torso entirely and quickly rid her of the loose pajama pants she adorned. Grissom moved quickly randomly moving to kiss her knees, then moving behind them to tickle her there. Sara was quite sure she had never felt such a sensation, a man doing that to her as his hand skated up her thigh, patient, but on a mission.

Upon reaching their targeted destination, Sara gasped and grabbed Gil by the wrist, pulling him back up to loom over her. His gaze was ferocious, yet loving. Sara's eyes glazed over as she kissed him deeply, profoundly. He tried to hold it back, for the sake of the facade, but he grinned against her lips, and she responded in kind.

Sara laughed. "Stop ittttt..." She drew out against him, and his grin grew wider. Doing as she asked, he gripped her panties in a single hand and slid them off, sending them dangerously close to the fire.

And then she was fire, they both were.

She bucked up against him, wildly, hair erratic, breathing much the same. She was turning to fire in his arms and Gil was surprised at how much he liked it.

It was fast, furious and then still.

Both of them so still in the other's arms. And then Sara laughed, long and loud. Quizzically, he gazed at her, wondering at the sudden outburst.

"That's three times in one day Gil!" She squeaked, surprised when his lips nipped at her shoulder. He panted, looked into her eyes, and grinned.

"Care to go for four?"


	20. Tinkering With Thoughts

**A/N: Kat, ... Jiminy... silly girl. **

---

All she wanted to do was go out and play in the snow. And that is exactly what Gil Grissom suggested that Sara Sidle do. At first, she'd attempted to feign nonchalance at the thought of building a snowman, but her childish impulse overtook her and she laughed heartily as she shrugged into her snow gear. She wanted to make the most of the day, as they left early the next morning, returning to Vegas just in time for shift.

Grissom pulled on his own jacket, his enthusiasm not nearly at the level she had peaked at. She was nearly bouncing up and down, waiting for him to be prepared. Once he was, they were out the door in a flash, the two of them stumbling carefully down the slope to the front lawn... to play in the snow. Though his enthusiasm couldn't match hers, his smile did, watt for watt.

He was even smiling when she suggest they make a snowman... and name it Jiminy. As in the cricket, because Pinocchio was one of her favorite movies as a child. Just another morsel of the delectable treat that was Sara.

He pictured her, young, on one of her better days, perched in front of the television. She was eating Oreos and humming along to 'When You Wish Upon A Star.' He could envision her reaching a crescendo in the music and knocking over her glass of milk, giggling when her sock sopped it up. A sweet little Sara, innocent and perfect, much like she was standing there, obscured by the swirling white flakes.

In that moment, he was humbled, humbled to have her love. He looked on as she worked a ball of snow into place for Jiminy's head and stood back to survey their handiwork. A judicious nod later, she was sure that it was proportional and she moved to stand next to him. "Whatcha think?" With a tilt of her head, she scrutinized their handiwork again.

"I think you're the only person I've ever met who would apply the laws of calculus to a snowman." He replied, brow raised, actually quite impressed with their 'man.' They'd found twigs for the arms and had managed to scrounge up some rocks for the eyes, nose and mouth. They didn't have a carrot and had to improvise, and neither one of them wanted to undress themselves to clothe the iceman.

He felt strange, giddy almost.

On impulse, Gil took a handful of snow and smacked it down on the top of her head. She gaped at him and he laughed evilly, balling up another handful of fluffy snow.

Sara shrieked and attempted to duck out of the way, only succeeding in getting a snowball to the head. Sara made a move to gather up snow, but hit what rather seemed to be a large chunk of it. Lifting it into her arms, she hurled it at him, hitting him square in the stomach.

He was indignant as he tossed a hardened ball her way. As he did, he lost his footing and began to fall.

He stumbled backwards and fell and she howled with laughter at the expression on his face as he did. To the best of her ability, she ran over to where he had fallen and looked down upon him, a faint frown painting her lips. Out of courtesy, she reached down to offer him a hand, still laughing. He took it, but yanked her arm and she proceeded to topple on top of him, all snow and smiles.

Her hair peeked out from under her hat in random spots and the color was once more high in her cheeks. Grissom couldn't contain the wide grin that spread across his face; he'd found himself not only smiling a lot more, but grinning to the point that his face felt as if it would split. "I love you, Sara Sidle." He spoke, wiping the snowflakes off of her nose, only to have more take their place.

Scrunching up her nose she made a mock gesture of distaste. "Is that all?" Her lips fell to his slowly, her nose cold against his cheek, face twitching as the ice flakes fell down upon his forehead. They stayed like that for a time, kissing languidly, fighting off the chill with gloved hands and warm kisses. Sufficiently numb, they retired to the cabin for hot chocolate and a movie.

She lay there, on top of him, content, and yet empty. Surreal, she felt entirely surreal. "Mmm, I like feeling this way. I hope it doesn't go away." She mumbled sleepily against his neck. The scent of chocolate and Sara overtook him, his stomach fluttering.

"Like what?" He titled his chin and peered down at her, straining his eyes.

"Ethereal." She stated and kissed his neck loudly, forcing a loud laugh from him. "Wanna stay like this forever." Sara mumbled and summarily fell asleep on his chest, leaving him to his thoughts.

Griss glanced at the clock. Noon. They'd been up early and their sleeping was out of whack so he figured he'd let her sleep for awhile so she'd be energized later... for their last hours in New England. Gil settled back to watch the rest of the movie, 'As Good As It Gets.'

Stroking her hair absent mindedly, he allowed his thoughts to stray from the plot. She was asleep on his chest and it tore at his heart to find just how perfect it was, the feeling, the setting, the woman. He was completely at ease, each nerve ending relaxed, kicking back.

He could get used to this for sure, this whole 'being relaxed' thing. He could also get used to the heart clenching and the tightness in his throat when he woke up and noticed she was lying beside him.

Sara Sidle had become everything that made him breathe.

Forever, she'd said she wanted to stay there, with him forever. Forever meaning... until the end. Forever meaning him for the rest of her life, for as long as she lived. Grissom wasn't sure he'd ever been so sad and yet so happy all at once. She wanted only him for the rest of her life.

That was a powerful thought. Indeed, he knew that she loved him, very much in fact, but he didn't know that all she wanted, that all she needed was him. Sure, she'd said something to that effect before, but until now he was unsure of what that meant, of what her words implied.

Gil was stunned to find that he wasn't... well... stunned by that inner revelation. She was all he needed, and Sara returned that sentiment, wholehearted.

She shifted on his chest and groaned, nuzzling further into his neck, before her lower body slid off of him, in between his legs and the back of the couch.

That was it, in that moment she was his perfection and he couldn't seem to shake the image of the two of them, ten years from them, sitting together on a couch, waiting for their child to come home from school. Marriage, love, children. All once notions so very foreign to Gil, yet now he allowed the thoughts to come forward and let them play out a little fantasy in his head.

Things just wouldn't do without her, and he planned on telling her that soon. As soon as he found a ring.

Sara awoke nearly an hour and a half later, the movie having ended, only to be replaced with another. Gil was still beneath her, and she hugged him tightly, pulling his thoughts away from the screen.

"Hey." He whispered, brushing his fingers across the skin of her neck. Her only response was a smile and a kiss to his cheek. She settled back down to his chest and they both turned their attention to the last scenes of 'Sleepy Hollow' playing out before them.

"Johnny Depp." She said as the credits began to roll. Cat-like, she stretched her body out across his and swiveled to capture his lips with hers.

He kissed her slowly and then pulled back. "You're a Johnny Depp fan then?" He posed.

Sara laughed and vaulted herself off of him, her energy replenished. "Who isn't?" She said sweetly and walked deliberately slowly into the bathroom.

He laughed and began tidying up the living room, taking some of their things into the bedroom. When he was through with that, he decided to begin in on the dishes, not wanting to spend their last hours in New Hampshire tidying up.

"Wanna go ice skating? Again?" She perked up next to him, in the kitchen, nearly sending a cup he was washing to the floor.

It really wasn't a question she was asking so he just laughed and kissed her as her boundless energy took over and propelled her to the porch. Grissom leaned back on the counter and watched as she dressed herself for the outdoors, admiring her youthful vigor, wondering if it was contagious.

And so, they made their way down to the lake to spend the last of the daylight hours dancing on the ice.


	21. Brushstrokes

A/N: Punched this chapter out for drakien. Who really needs organic chem in the first place? Am I right? I'm supposed to be wrapping up a lab right now but hey, look at that, I'm not!

and moglo... I'm listening to that song RIGHT THIS SECOND, I swear. I love it. BNL are my boys. I've seen em 20 times and they've all been worth it.

-

It was strange, how quickly they fell back into their old routine once back in Vegas. Save for him bring her coffee from time to time and vice versa, it was as if nothing had changed.

The only person to ask about their vacation was Catherine, and she'd been incredibly nonchalant about it, slipping the question in over evidence retrieval. The only answer Sara gave her was"Interesting, fun." before she went back to collecting and bagging.

It was sufficient for Catherine, just to see them smiling, so she let the issue go and their days settled back into an old routine.

Cases came and went with little change, save for the time that Nick fell into Lake Mead and came out covered in weeds. That had been memorable, and Warrick, thinking fast, had luckily captured the moment of film, for everyone at the office to revel in.

There had been mornings when the team would go out to breakfast, as if nothing had changed in the past four years. Aside from brief hand holding and quick pecks on the lips, nothing had. Not really.

It was three weeks since they had come back from New Hampshire when he'd dropped the next bombshell. Sara was preparing herself for bed. He lay in bed, waiting for her, listening to the sounds she made. The dull swishing of her brushing her teeth, the way she sniffed after putting in her eye drops.

Padding slowly into his room, he grinned at the picture she presented: a wife beater, bright green pants, and disheveled hair. Truly a woman in need of some rest. He pulled the comforter back for her and she settled into his side as he moved to switch of the bedside lamp.

Gil leaned over and handed her a small card, but gave her no explanation as to what was inside. He turned over as if to go to sleep and she slipped her finger under the tape securing the card slowly, very slowly. Upon opening it, her face went blank, wondering just why the hell he was giving her a five hundred dollar gift certificate... to Home Depot.

Confused, utterly, she rolled over and hit him on the shoulder. 'Sleeping my ass.' She thought and hit him again, this time, succeeding in getting him to roll over and face her. "What's this"

He attempted to feign ignorance. "What is what"

"Don't be an idiot. This" She waved the card in front of his face for good measure and perched herself up on an elbow, staring intently at him.

"Well" He huffed, pretending to be irritated. "If you're going to live here, this place could use a woman's touch."

"I'm moving in"

"Go to sleep."

"I'm making over your place... and moving in"

"Go to sleep."

She flung herself at him and kissed his naked back. "You're kidding."

"No."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Now go to sleep."

-

Three days later, Grissom was regretting his 'then' brilliant idea. Greg, Nick and Warrick all stood in his living room, adorned in borrowed jumpsuits, goggles in place over their eyes. It had taken some cajoling on Sara's part to get them to give in and help out, but after they realized that they'd get to add to the new Gil Grissom project, they were sold.

Numerous cans of paint littered the floor, brushes scattered all over the place, waiting to be put to good use.

Sara had gone straight to the Home Depot the next day, much to Grissom's amusement, to pick out the colors that she intended to paint the rooms. Luckily, his floors didn't need remodeling, and his kitchen only needed minimal work. Plus, if she wanted, she had money to spare to pour into the remodeling project.

Sara decided she'd wait and see how the paint job turned out before she settled on any larger projects.

Sara slapped her hands together judiciously, and the three men spun to look at her. "Living room first." She smiled at Grissom and he simply raised a brow at her. "Cerulean." Picking up a canister, she displayed the appropriate color and set it back down on the floor.

She slid goggles onto her face and smiled broadly at the bunch. "What are you waiting for? Let's get started" She pried open a canister and poured it into the paint tray. She was giddy from the prospect of making half of his space hers and attack the wall with gusto.

Grissom cringed as the calming blue covered over the white of his walls. For just a brief moment, he was rethinking his little plan. Then he saw the look on Sara's face and forgot all about it. Nick laughed at her wide streak of color and dipped in as well, taking the wall opposite her.

Grissom watched for a few moments as Greg and Warrick attempted to work out a system, and retreated to his bedroom to get some work done. Laughter floated in from time to time, causing him to smile and shake his head.

Grissom worked as diligently as his friends in the living room were... until he heard a scream. A man's scream. It spurred him out of his seat and into his living room, only to find Greg, face covered in paint, standing in the middle of the room, his roller dripping onto the tarp on the floor.

He couldn't help it, he really couldn't. He should have been upset, but the sight of Greg, standing there, face all blue, looking forlorn, was just too much. Grissom's smile surfaced, soon followed by a laugh. Sara, Warrick and Nick all stood there, faces expressionless, none of them wishing to take the blame.

Grissom spoke. "Greg, if I may ask... how"

Greg's eye darted around to his compatriots and he turned back to his boss. "I uh... fell." Greg said and hung his head. That spurred Warrick to laugh, and in turn Nick. Soon, they were all laughing, including Greg, who swiped at his face with the arm of his jumpsuit.

"I feel so used." The young CSI muttered as they returned to their task, wanting to complete the room within the hour.

They resumed their painting with minimal interruptions and finished the room in forty-five minutes. When they were through, Grissom treated them all to Chinese take out and they pow-wowed on the tarps in the living room, all of them covered in red paint.

After lunch, Warrick had offered to take the bathroom and Sara and Nick took the bedroom. Grissom wasn't exactly comfortable having Nick in his bedroom, but the other man gave no signs of being uncomfortable, so he let it go and sat down at the breakfast bar to a new forensics journal.

Once inside the bedroom, they laid the tarps and stood back to survey the area. "So" Nick broke the silence"Why are you doing this for him"

Sara picked up her roller and dunked it in the paint that she'd poured. Attempting to shrug it off as if it were nothing, she answered. "I'm moving in, and he wants this place as much mine as it his."

Nick paused in his painterly preparations and gaped at her. "I uh, I..." Nick drawled on as Sara applied paint liberally to the walls, not particularly interested in his reaction.

"Congratulations." He said and turned his attention to the wall in front of him.

-

Hours later, Gil and Sara sat in the kitchen, sipping tea silently.

"You don't like the color." She piped up.

He shook his head and took a long gulp from his mug. "I like it."

She nodded and returned to her tea.

Minutes later, ten perhaps, he spoke. "Do you even want to be here"

Sara looked up at him startled, put down her tea, and slid from her stool. "Come with me." She directed quietly, walking towards his bedroom.

He loomed in the door as she reopened the can of scarlet paint. "C'mere." She ordered and he did, coming forward slowly. He stood above her, looking down. "Come, here." She instructed and pointed to the floor. He dropped down beside her and she grabbed his hand and plunged it into the paint.

"Sara" He started, but watched as she did the same. He took her right hand in her clean left and pulled it up to press against the wall. She did the same with her right hand, placing her indiscernible palm print over his, then she turned to him.

"Yes. I want to be here." Then she got up and walked from the room to wash the paint from her hand.

Grissom watched her go and then glanced at the camouflaged palms on the wall.

That's where their new bed would go, he decided.


	22. Forever Sounds Good

A/N: I tripped and fell into a vat full of Holly's leftover fluff. You put it there on purpose bitch!

-

It was wonderful. And it was theirs.

A beautiful solid oak bed frame. The headboard was low and elegant. Timeless and yet modern; sturdy and reliable. The mattress was supportive, bouncy enough to be fun, especially while lovemaking, with superior lumbar support for their sleeping hours.

Every evening they awoke refreshed, their backs nearly thanking them for the superior thought they'd put into choosing their mattress. Muscles were unbearably relaxed as they slid against the smooth Egyptian cotton of their bed sheets. Even their yawned seemed more commonplace and relaxing in the comfort of their new bed.

Their new bed.

The night they'd christened it, she'd laughed at his care at applying the sheets and he'd responded with a modicum of profanity when the fitted sheet wouldn't seem to fit. She laughed even harder when she'd sat on the bed and the seemingly secure sheet released its elastic hold and captured her lightly in its bonds. He'd climbed on top of her then, laughing himself, placing kisses up and down her arm and she shrieked when he began tickling her neck.

Yes, that night had been up there on her 'all time' list, and was sure to stay. They'd made love so slow it seemed rushed, the blood in her ears pulsing harder than she was sure it was healthy too. Senses heightened, which she attributed to the expensive fabric of the sheets just to be safe, she'd called out loud that she ever had when he'd come into her.

A heated rush, they went to sleep, allowing to the wet spot to dry on the bed.

Sara had begun to take a certain charge in his kitchen. She'd learned to compromise between his taste for red meat and hers for tofu, learning to actually fall back into the routine of being in the kitchen.

He adjusted to cohabitating with someone who was competent enough so that he trusted her to do his laundry, and cook his food. She felt the same, though she did have to teach him that her underwear did indeed fall under the distinction 'delicate' and had to be treated as such. He promised that if he ever happened to mangle her delicates that he'd take her to Victoria's Secret himself to make up for it.

Yes, cohabitation was beginning to feel more and more like some kind of mellow bliss.

It was a month and a half later that found Sara seated at their kitchen table, her day off, flipping through a William Sonoma catalogue to feed her new culinary obsession. She was preoccupied with salad tongs, criticizing the full array of them spread across the pages, toggling between the wooden ones and the stainless steel ones.

Her phone trilled shrilly and she picked it up, eyes still on the page, mind still in limbo about the salad tongs. "Sidle." She sighed, and was greeted with the voice of her superior.

"Sara, we're swamped. I need you to come in." He was all business and she was fine with that. He was, after all, at work.

Sara tossed the booklet onto the table and replied"Be right in." She hung up, grabbed her jacket, her bag and left quickly, excited at the prospect of a new case to get involved in.

Once at CSI headquarters she ran into the break room and grabbed a cup of tepid coffee, swallowing it as if it was expensive dark roast. Nick was there, reading a newspaper and glanced up at her, a tiny grin spreading across his face. "What" She asked him, tossing the Styrofoam cup into the trash.

Nick brushed off her question and ducked back into his paper. "Nothin'. Nothin."

Grissom strode into the room, jacket on, kit in hand, brisk and ready to tackle the case. "You ready" He asked, wanting a cup of coffee but deciding against it. His nerves were on end, and his stomach turned to a huge ulcer when Nick shot him a knowing glance, silently sending him luck.

Sara nodded and smacked Nick on the shoulder on the way out. He broke into a completely idiotic smirk when the two left the room, wondering how the entire scene would play out.

Once in the car, Sara began with her litany of questions. Grissom fidgeted in his seat an answered her, though slightly belatedly. It was clear that he had something on his mind. "You okay, Griss" She asked, inching up in her seat to see his face clearer.

"Nothing, just weighing theories in my head." He said and the car fell back into silence.

Once they had reached the outskirts of the city, he pulled the Tahoe to the side of the road and clambered out. Sara fixed her hat on her head and hopped out as well, retrieving her kit from the backseat. He hobbled along before her, leading the way. "Hey, where's the detective, isn't he supp"

"He's already at the scene, I called ahead."

"Where's his car" Sara pondered, looking back towards the road, no sign of a cruiser ever having been there. She swiveled back to follow him, but he either ignored her question or hadn't heard her. Sara jogged to catch up with him, just as he was about to walk over a ridge. "What's this about" She finally asked him, her voice slightly heated.

Grissom turned to look at her and walked on. Grudgingly, she followed, and was caught off guard at the sight before her.

Three gasoline powered snow makers puttered happily away, sending flurries of frozen water into the air before filtering to the ground. Sara's face scrunched up in confusion. "What the hell? Did our killer..." She trailed off as she saw the smile creep up on Grissom's face. She set her jaw in anger and he bit his lip and watched as she worked out the logic in her head.

Her jaw dropped and she turned slowly to meet his eyes. "I can't believe you! You set me up" She was grinning, and began to advance on him. When she reached him, she punched him in the shoulder, good-naturedly. "You set me up" She squealed again. A grin snuck up onto his face as he began phase two of his little plan. Sara placed her kit down on the ground.

He pulled her into the ring of snow and she shivered. He toyed with the idea of how he wanted to proceed. No matter how many times he'd run it through his head, he'd always gotten stuck on how to plan this part. Standing in the center of the snow, he looked on as she peered around in wonder, holding out her free hand to test the cold flakes on her hand.

She bent and picked up a small skimming of snow, as it was mixed with sand. "So what's all this about" She asked, letting the mixture filter through her open fingers.

Snow, snow, lovely, lovely snow.

"I uh, I kind of lost it when planning this part. Didn't really, exactly know how to uh..." Grissom fished in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small box, fumbling with it.

Sara's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she sucked in a breath. For some reason, she felt like she was going to vomit. "Griss... wha-with the-is... Griss" She sounded incredibly scared and Grissom swallowed audibly, wondering if he was jumping the gun.

Gil bit his lip and looked at the snow machines, still puttering away. "I just... want you to...damn it." He passed a hand over his face, as if wiping away the words he'd about to say next.

Sara held her breath in, one hand clutched in his, waiting for his next words.

Grissom sputtered"I'm horrendous at this." His head fell against his chest and she squeezed her hand in consolation.

"No, no! You're doing fine" She said quickly, in a harsh whisper, urging him to continue.

Gil Grissom smiled shyly and cracked open the box. Her eyes were instinctively drawn to it.

A three stone setting, tiny little diamonds in white gold. They winked at her, and she was tempted to wink back as tears prickled the backs of her eyes.

True, she wasn't a flowers and candy type of girl but she had envisioned herself one day wearing an engagement ring. And this one was gorgeous and oh so simple.

He held it out to her and shrugged. "I just want... what everyone is supposed to want. Sara, I want..." He bit his lip and closed his eyes briefly. "I want forever... with you." He clarified, still holding out the box as flakes of snow swirled around him.

Sara was silent, staring at the ring. Her eyes were wide and serious, her breaths coming out in little puffs, shallow.

"Sara" He asked, more scared than he'd ever been in his life. Did he do something wrong? Was he rushin-

"Put it on me." She whispered, flitting her eyes up to meet his.

Grissom became confused, for a moment, feeling as if the world disappeared from under him. "What" He blinked and looked at the ring in his hand.

She's face broke into a grin. "Put it on me" She said, louder this time, pulling on the hand that still held hers. Grissom snapped out of his temporary paralysis, let go of her hand, plucked the ring from the velvet, and she held her hand out, slowly.

He took it in one of his and slipped the ring onto her finger. And waited.

Sara tested the weight of the ring on her finger. Perfect fit. So pretty. So bright. She criticized how it looked on her, held her hand out so they could both examine it.

"Yeah" She sighed, falling into his arms. "Forever sounds good."


	23. Years of Sand and Stone

A/N: Last chapter. Yes, the final chapter. On the one hand, I'm relieved... on the other, so sad. But alas, Stalemate is dwindling and it's time for me to start a new projects. More notes at the end, read on.

-

It was cozy, there in their bed. It was even cozier for Sara because her husband's arm was draped around her midsection, stroking soothingly. Her eyes were droopy, but since they had the night off (the first time they'd both had that night off in years) they were determined to stay awake and enjoy it.

Dick Clark was rambling on about something on the television, but Sara didn't hear him. She was too busy, lost in her nest of thoughts, wondering what Gil was thinking.

"You're sure you want to do this?" She asked him, so quiet and hesitant that he hugged her back, tighter into his body.

"Yes." Was his only reply, and his eyes were no longer on the television, but trained on her pained face.

"It's more than we'd expected, I need you to understand just how much more."

"I know." He replied, taking up the gentle stroking once more.

Sara turned in his arms and placed a hand on his cheek. Amongst the background noise supplied by the television, they heard the masses counting down; ten, nine, eight...

"We're gonna do this?" Her lips quivered and she looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

"Yes." He said reverently.

"Happy New Year!" People screamed on the T.V., 'Happy 2007' flashing across the screen in bold, bright letters. Sara kissed her husband and sighed.

A year, two months and three days prior to that first day of 2007, Sara had accidentally brought up the issue of children. They hadn't spoken of it in ages, and it seemed as though neither one wanted to. But it had come out as a slip of the tongue and Grissom gripped on full force.

"As I said, I'm not getting any younger Sara." It was almost as if he was admonishing her, and for a moment, she was stunned to have him place all of that responsibility in her.

"There are other ways, Gil." She'd shot back, reaching into the refrigerator to retrieve a tomato for the salad she had been making.

He came up behind her and stole a sliced cucumber wedge out of the bowl. "That's very true. What are your thoughts on that?"

And just like that, the seed had been planted. It had taken a month and a half of deep talks, antsy conversations and soul searching to realize that the best option for the both of them, the most logical one, the one that they could nurture and cherish, would be adoption.

Sara and Gil had both decided that they would be adoptive parents, and the best damn ones the world had seen at that.

It had been difficult, the first four months, meeting with people, learning about the process, the background checks, the approval stages. Sara certainly didn't like the idea of an adoption fair; she couldn't bear to get to know a child and decide 'No, he isn't the one for me' as if she were choosing a pet. So, the prospective and rather nervous parents met with a counselor, who showed them pictures and files on the children who would be eligible to be adopted.

And the second Sara's eyes fell on the face of nine-year-old Joshua Shedden, she knew. Somewhere in her head, in her heart, somewhere in her being she knew that that boy was to find a home with them. Immediately, she handed the file to Grissom and he'd smiled, reading through the boy's stats.

"He likes baseball." Gil said appreciatively. "I wonder if he likes bugs."

Sara smiled. "Doesn't matter, we don't need another 'you' running around."

They'd discussed the boy's past with the counselor. Joshua had been orphaned when he was three and had spent most of his early childhood going from foster home to foster home. There had been a history of domestic abuse at many of the homes and he'd had to undergo a year and a half of therapy through the group home before he was allowed to be released once more. His godparents had taken him in for a time, but they too were deemed unfit to raise the boy, a history of abuse with them as well.

That was the only definitive information on him and the counselor asked the two hopefuls if they wanted to go about handling a child with severe childhood trauma. The vote was unanimous, they both did. It wasn't an option not to. Just because he wasn't what society would deem normal didn't mean he was any less deserving of the love and care of parents.

That day, when they'd left the care facility, Sara had kissed Grissom so hard that he almost passed out, and told him then and there that he would make such a perfect father that his heart fluttered for the rest of the week.

But then the waiting came; the long process of actually adopting the boy set in and Sara became a nervous wreck. She knew there were levels that they'd have to go through, countless papers to sign, more and more checks until they could be cleared to adopt the boy.

Five months later, in November, when they'd received a call from the service, they both became ecstatic, thinking that it was finally time. They'd been preparing for the better part of the year; buying things, remodeling the townhouse, reading for days on end about adoption and the raising of children. They'd even taken a crash course from Catherine on 'How to Handle a Pre-teen.'

But when they'd met back with the counselor, she'd told them another matter had come up. Neither one of them took that as a good sign.

"It turns out... Joshua has a sister. She's only been in the system a year as the parents were recently deemed unfit. We didn't even know they were siblings until we were doing a check on Joshie's history." Sharon, the counselor, turned grim. "She's only two."

Sara's brow had knit in confusion. What did that have to do with...

"It's up to you, but we do tend to attempt to keep siblings together, especially when such tumultuous childhood trauma is involved. It often aids in the mental health of all children involved."

Sharon hadn't asked them outright, but they both knew: Were they going to take the second child as well.

Sara had looked to her husband, expression blank, not wanting him to think her emotions were guilting him into any kind of a choice.

"Of course. Of course we want to keep them together." And his arm slithered around her shoulders when he said it and Sharon's eyebrows had nearly flown from her head.

"Are you sure you don't want to discuss this? It is-"

"No discussion needed. They're going to stay together." Grissom finalized, squeezing Sara's hand in his own as she released a shaky breath she'd been holding for the better part of a year.

Sharon had handed them another file then, thinner than Joshua's, for them to open at their leisure. "Sara, Gil, meet Lilly Shedden. Two."

Grissom's jaw dropped and Sara sucked in a breath. In front of them was a picture, the most perfect child, brown hair, big blue eyes... with a slight gap between her front teeth. And Sara, unable to hold it in any longer began to uncharacteristically sob. She broke down.

"Mrs. Grissom?" Sharon asked, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the woman's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Gil smiled at the woman. "She's perfect. We're perfect. When can we meet them?"

Another week followed before they were able to be introduced to the children. Sara was so scared, afraid that the boy was likely to rebel at the thought of being put in another foster home.

But when they'd arrived, he'd been seated in his bunk, quietly reading 'Bunnicula'.

When his head popped up, there was a hesitant smile on his face, and he'd reached over to find his bookmark. "Joshua? This is Mr. and Mrs. Grissom."

Josh's face went sour. "Don't call me Joshua," He said patronizingly. "Call me Josh. Joshua's for dorks."

Gil smiled then. "Hey Josh, I have the same problem. I get really upset when people call me Gilbert."

The boy smiled at the name. "Gilbert is a funny name!"

Grissom nodded and ushered his wife forward a bit. "This is Sara, she's my wife. She doesn't have a cool nickname like we do, her real name is too short." Sara laughed and smiled and bent down to the boy.

"But let's not tell him that he's not all that cool, okay?" Her head indicated she was talking about Grissom, and Josh smiled and laughed conspiratorially.

Sharon had left them then, to get Lilly, and the three of them got to talking. Grissom engaged the boy in talk about baseball and school and they discussed the finer points of why girls had cooties. He told Josh about bugs and fingerprints. Sara had talked about board games and rollerblading and also school, as she was prone to do with just about any child.

Josh was a good student, he'd said. Straight A's right on through. He didn't like math all that much, but loved talking about history and archaeology and mummies. Just when he was getting into his bit about wanting to see the Sphinx, Sharon returned with Lilly.

She had a thumb in her mouth, pigtails in her hair and was clutching a giant stuffed toy that Sara could only assume was that Nemo character that was all the rage. "Gil, Sara, this is Lilly."

The little girl's face scrunched up and she hugged the stuffed, orange toy closer to her.

And they fell in love all over again.

-

Lilly had taken to calling them her parents on her own. They'd never asked her to call them anything other than Gil and Sara. During an episode of Sesame Street, she'd turned to Sara and said, very politely, just like she'd been taught, "Mommy, can I have more juice pwease?" Taking her eyes off of Elmo for a second, smiling at Sara. Sara, for her part, stood there emotionless, face blank, wondering if she'd heard the girl correctly.

"What honey?" She asked, just to be sure.

"Can I pwease have more juice, mommy?"

Her mother's mouth had opened and closed a few times before she could respond. "Of course sweetheart." Sara brought her the juice, tears in her eyes.

"Mommy, why aw you sad?"

Sara smiled and scooped her up quickly into her arms. The little girl squealed and giggled as Sara began tickling her with kisses. "Oh baby, I'm not sad. I'm just very, very happy."

Lilly's eyes went big with confusion, as if she'd missed something. "Why?" She asked, readjusting herself on her mother's hip.

"Because I love you very much."

"Dat makes you happy?" She was so confused, it was so adorable.

"Of course silly girl!"

"You make me happy too mommy." And Sara had kissed her some more then, and the two of them had dissolved into a tickle fest on the living room floor. Josh had appeared in the doorway then, tall for an eleven year old, and asked them to quiet down please, he was trying to study. The girls had looked at each other sheepishly and sat down to watch more Sesame Street.

Lilly hopped up when she heard the door open, and both sets of eyes were drawn to the door. "Daddy!" She screeched, for the first time, running up to Grissom and clutching onto his leg.

Grissom was startled beyond belief and looked down at the girl like she was a foreign object. He then looked to Sara, who looked, once again, like she might cry. His gaze ultimately filtered down to the girl clutching his pant leg. "Hey sweetie. You missed me huh?"

Lilly nodded vehemently. "I wanted you to read me my Bewen... Bewwystein Bears book." Lilly moved in front of her father and he set down his briefcase and picked her up. "Mommy doesn't read it right. She doesn't make Daddy Bear voice all loud like you." Grissom had been about to tell her that they'd read together as soon as he showered, when Josh entered, the room, book in one hand, a can of ginger ale in the other.

He walked to the fridge and paused when he realized Gil was in the room. His face lit up. "Hey, Gil. How was work?" Thing was, as always, the boy was genuinely interested and Grissom took the bait. He kissed Lilly and released her with the promise that they would read later and walked to the couch, discussing with Joshua the finer points of linear regression. Sara and Lilly say on the floor, Nemo between the girl's legs, the girl between Sara's.

Days, weeks, months passed, and Lilly had taken on her father's love of insects... to a degree. She'd also fallen in love with the wooden sandbox that Uncle Nick had built for her in the backyard. From that, she and her brother played 'Egypt' with tiny Lego people.

After dinner one night, pasta with alfredo sauce, Josh's favorite, Lilly had piped up. "I wanna feed de itty bitties Daddy!" Her bottom bounced in her high chair and Josh laughed at her. She stuck her tongue out at him; he retalitaed by doing the same and Sara admonished them.

"Hey, if you're gonna fight, what did I say?"

"No ice cream." They both said, monotone, and Lilly returned to looking at her father.

He smiled at her as he got up to clear the dishes from the table. "Daddy!" She knew he was baiting her and she pouted.

"Okay, okay, let's go feed the buggies sweetheart. Josh, you coming?" Grissom asked as Lilly vaulted herself into his arms.

Josh thought for a moment. "Naw, I uh, I gotta talk to Sara about something." Gil nodded and walked with Lilly into his 'buggy' room.

Josh sat in front of Sara, wringing his hands. "Sara, I ummm, my class is having a trip..." He trailed off and looked up at her, she nodded, signaling that he should continue.

"But it's to Seattle, and it's a lot of money... and I was wondering, if I maybe... did more chores or... something... that I could go."

Sara smiled. Instead of flat out asking for the money, he asked if he could take on more responsibilities in order to earn it. Responsible. Her son, yes son, was realizing the meaning of responsibilities.

She appeared deep in thought for a moment. "Seattle's pretty far away Josh, you've never been on your own like that before." The tone of her voice made the boy's face fall. "But I'll discuss it with Gil and see what we come up with, okay?"

Then Josh beamed and on impulse, reached over and hugged her. "Thanks Sara, this is gonna rock!"

Two years later saw the fourteen-year-old Joshua with a part-time job, young for a freshman in high school. He'd jumped in headfirst, signing up for the lacrosse team, and in a few weeks, was put on varsity. He hit the books with as much gusto, pulling in steady A's much to the delight of his parents.

Lilly was in grammar school, had won student of the month twice, and was begging her mother to let her join the book of the month club after school. She also began showing an interest in chorus, but Sara wasn't sure she was ready for that. Next year, her mom had said and Lilly had thrown a fit.

At sixteen, Josh had saved up enough money to buy himself new hockey gear and a beat up old Chevy to lug it around him. Gil had checked it out for him, and helped him get a good deal on it. But Gil couldn't understand why he needed to put in a three hundred dollar sound system.

"Gil, for real, the radio sucks." Josh had said, both heads under the hood, checking out the engine. Grissom had smiled but took on an authoritative tone.

"Watch your mouth." He barked, but smiled, and Josh had smiled right along with him.

"Yes, sir."

Lilly joined Tae-Kwon-Do but found out she liked ice-skating better and got the lead in her recital. Josh had showed up to it late, still in his hockey gear, but with a camera in hand, recording the whole ordeal.

He went off to Miami for spring break with his girlfriend, though he came back single, with a hangover, and had gotten a lecture on the finer points of drinking from Sara, as she spoke from experience. Gil hadn't been to happy with the fact that a seventeen year old was drinking but he realized that times had changed, and that Josh wasn't a bad kid, he was just rebelling a little late.

Lilly failed a geometry test and Josh had to redeem himself in calculus class and they floated through school with very few blips on the radar. Seemed that Gil and Sara were blessed. But they figured that since they started late, they were simply reaping all of the benefits of life late in the game.

Then Josh. Salutatorian. Not valedictorian, but pretty much just as good. It wasn't as if he'd been meaning to be second in the class anyway. That's just how he'd ended up.

And there he was, graduating with twelve varsity letters and a full rides to UCLA, Harvard, Stanford, Northeastern, UNLV and Texas AM. He'd only applied to so many places because he wanted to know that he had options.

When he'd told Gil and Sara that he wanted to go to UCLA, Gil couldn't contain the smile that leapt to his face. He turned to his wife and whispered. "Took that over Harvard, how do you feel?" And she just shoved him and pulled the boy, now three inches taller than her, into her arms.

Sara stopped reminiscing and was brought back to the present. She, her daughter and her husband all hunkered down on cold metal benches, in the bleachers of a high school stadium.

"And now, our salutatorian, Joshua Grissom." The audience clapped politely, his hockey teammates holler, lacrosse buddies booed and the track teams shouts mixed in with the rest. Lilly, excited to be the sister of such a popular guy, stood up.

"Yeah Josh!" She screamed through cupped hands, jumping up and down, much to the amusement of her parents.

"I'm not one for long speeches." He began, and his classmates cheered. He laughed. "I'll leave that up to Karen your valedictorian." He looked over at the attractive Asian girl he's taken to dating his senior year. She smiled at him and flushed in embarrassment.

"Sit in a sandbox. First take off your shoes, get a bucket of water, work the kinks out of your hands and wet the sand. Then close your eyes, close your eye class of 2015. Close 'em!" He demanded and his peers laughed and did as they were asked.

"Josh rules!" someone near the back of the group yelled and he laughed. "Now, pick up that stick that's laying next to you, the one right there... and draw. Just draw. Especially you aspiring artists, draw." He waited a moment and continued.

"That's your future, that's our future there in that sand. Shape it as you will, or just start all over. Each grain can be altered to make a new picture. So many people have shaped my pile of sand. My friends, my teachers, but most of all, my sister Lilly and my mom and dad, Sara and Gil, who gave me a new life when I was unwanted."

And then, both Sara and her husband gasped and gripped each other's hand tight. Lilly glanced up at them, stupid grin on her face. "Did you hear that? He mentioned my name!" Sara smiled at her daughter and kissed her cheek.

"Uh huh." Sara started crying then, the lines on her face a little deeper than the time she had cried over her daughter's similar words.

Josh was wrapping his incredibly short speech up. "So, my friends, class of 2015, make your castles in the sand. Now where's Karen..."

That's when time stopped, for an instant, for the four of them. Gil's hand was in Sara's, their daughter between them. And their son was graduating from high school, about to launch himself into the real world. Amazing, what they'd become.

Josh moved aside, did a little cartwheel, much to the consternation of the faculty, but to the amusement of his friends as they cheered him back to his seat. His girlfriend took the podium and began to speak.

The Grissom family tuned her out, wrapped within their own little peculiar world, happy.

-

Thank you reviewers, for sticking with this, through the turbulence-that is, thanks for coming back after nabbed it from me. Thank you for the kind words, for the suggestions, and for keeping me going.

And to the ladies, you know who you are, who nurtured this ficlet into a huge project... and who didn't get deterred when I veered into fluff.


End file.
